Dead Space Redemption
by locke2564
Summary: Isaac Clarke has escaped the disaster of the Ishimura and is returning home when a sudden distress call from the Ishimura threatens to throw him back into horror... Post-Dead Space. Several spoilers along the story. You have been warned!
1. Prologue: A trip back into darkness

_**Dead Space**_ and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), _**Mirror´s Edge**_ and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.

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Okay, i have neglected this story for a long time. Even if i have updated it sometimes, (and i got to the impressive mark of fourteen chapters for this story, wich is impressive because my stories don´t get that long).

Anyway... I´ve made a disservice by neglecting to mention the people leaving reviews in the past.

NOT ANYMORE...

Many thanks to **Braze Rancor, Master of the Boot** and **OceanLord** for reviewing, as well as **Infected Vupine, LazyBlueGuy, Quianbashium, dogoffarsight, and Lazorman8**, for placing an alert or favoring this story.

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This is a Mirror´s Edge and Dead Space crossover. As unlikely as it can be, i´ve tried to include many elements of Mirror´s Edge in this story, even if it leans a lot on the plot of the Dead Space games. As a result, those elements far surpass the ones of Mirror´s Edge. Nonetheless, that game´s concepts are present and I´ll try and make use of them as much as possible. If you pay attention enough, you may find motives frequently used on the universe of Faith and company.

It´s such a bad thing that EA didn´t decide to support Mirror´s Edge as much as they did Dead Space...

Anyway... on to the fray!

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_Si quieres leer esta historia en español, buscala como "Redención", en la misma categoria (Dead Space-Mirror´s Edge crossovers, idioma español)._

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**DEAD SPACE REDEMPTION**

**Prologue:**

**A trip back into the darkness**

_Isaac, it´s me. I wish I could talk to you..._

A gloved and slightly trembling hand pressed the holoscreen of the control panel, avoiding that particular video fragment he had seen constantly, playing once more. The unhappy owner of that un-severed extremity, battling to contain a slight shaky felling, took a deep breath and stood there a few minutes, looking to the blackness of the void through the crysteel window of the bridge, trying to forget the nerve-wracking feeling of fear and vacuity that pressed him.

The brightness of the stars comforted him for a moment, allowing him to forget his situation: Being alone on an executive shuttle, with a hardly-functioning shock point drive, recently escaped from a chaotic planet in which humankind would never set their feet.

Ever.

Abandoned to the horrors lurking in every corner of the darkness. He didn´t want to close his eyes, to avoid recalling them.

His dead partners...

In the middle of the void, in the place where nothing should be heard, something made a sound. A slight touch of fabrics, the sound of textiles rubbing each other. The man repressed the need of turning back with all his might. Countless times he had done it in the last three days and every time he did, distinct surprises, each one more disturbing than the previous, plagued him like hauntings, as if to remind him a bitter lesson:

Don´t you dare looking back...

The sound that broke the tranquility of the place, of that vehicle where none could have entered, was still there. Inviting, suggestive... disconcerting. The trembling of his hand suddenly became notorious. His nerves were wracked. Each vision, each sound, each stimuli driving him a step closer to total madness. To filling his head completely with the nightmarish memories of that maelström of horror and chaos, that he had gotten away from.

He raised his hand and watched it. Grabbed her wrist with the other arm and suppressed the tremor as much as he could. But the feeling of nervousness didn´t mitigate. Maybe if he decided to ignore it, that sound would disappear eventually. Like those mind tricks that only require to be forgotten to stop bothering. Controlled his thoughts and waited. It was working, the sound of rubbing cloth had decayed, and it had been ten seconds since hearing it for the last time. His breathing, which had risen suddenly, began to regain its normal rhythm.

Then he discovered that there was another noise. One that made his heart about to pull itself out of her chest. It was as if fate conspired to make his life even more twisted and miserable.

An animal growl... undeniably pronounced by a human voice.

His body trembled uncontrollably. The chill that ran down his back was the indescribable feeling of thousands of needles of pure ice, moving under his skin, each one producing excruciating pain and reminding him the limits of its multiple times torn, battered and patched body. In his mind, Nicole's speech began to boil again:

_I´m sorry ... I'm sorry for everything. I wish i could just talk to someone..._

Struggled with his body to regain control. He didn´t yield to the temptation of turning his gaze back, recalling the misshapen and terrifying creatures that would always prowl on his mind. The grunts in his head became confused with the words of her companion:

_It´s all falling apart here, I can´t believe what's happening..._

The rumor was becoming stronger, more insistent, as if it was speaking to him. As if it encouraged, demanded and imperiously ordered him to turn back. Isaac was not sure he could stand the strain.

_It's strange... such a little thing. In the end, it all comes down to one little thing..._

If he didn´t turn, his nerves would collapse and explosive cardiac arrest would kill him. If he flipped back however, and discovered that one of them had followed to the ship, to that last bastion of safety, he would also die... and in the most horrible way possible. His mind ordered his body to turn, even though, against all other rational opinion, his other faculties were telling him not to.

_I didn´t want it to end like this. I really wanted to see you again, just once..._

There she was.

Nestled between the passenger seat and the inner wall of the bridge. Her face deformed and bloody, with those eyes that he once reveled in, like a traveler that cherishes the stars that serve him as guide... once those shining, blue stars, now watching with unusual bitterness. Her hair still rested on her shoulders, dry, hard and greasy, with blood from her temple, changing it to a bit of a scarlet-death red, yet retaining a trace of that gold that always framed her face. Her expression was no longer human though. The most vicious animal might not have that gesture, so twisted and evil.

Something about her told him that things were not like before. He had a vague glimpse of the symbols displayed by the Red Marker, leaping from her body and being recorded on his mind instantaneously. Those symbols engraved in blood that permeated the walls of the gargantuan Ishimura, driving him mad because of what they represented, the despised jargon used by the Unitology Church.

She didn´t stop to talk. Soon, she was over him, struggling and trying to stab her long, dirty nails in his eyes, her body displaying an unusual force that threatened to subdue him and break every bone of his body. The piercing screams and screeching coming out of her lips showing the huge pain and suffering she had been through.

What she was at that moment, it was not whom he had sought with few, veiled and confused expectations.

He couldn´t stand it anymore. Those hands, that once had been soft and smooth, had released from their struggle and beat him without truce, tearing the skin and exposing the flesh of his face with each new assault. He could taste the warm, thick blood that filled his mouth, with dear red life escaping from his being. Strangely, his fear had been left behind. The pain gave him a good feeling that he was not about to miss.

They were finally reunited. Never again it would happen something like that. They wouldn´t be separated again.

At the moment she raised her sharpened hand to end his suffering, that last parliament from the video resounded in his head:

_I loved you Isaac... I have always loved you..._

Followed by the most broken and chilling cry he had ever heard...

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Isaac Clarke let out a scream of pure terror, trying to ward off the feeling of horror that had caught him. Gasped, startled and rose from the chair of command of the ship with his forehead beaded with sweat. His eyes nervously acknowledged the ground, getting used to the cold darkness of space, and found himself clutching his hand unexpectedly tight to the plasma cutter, trying unsuccessfully to banish the fear from the nightmare that had taken his mind.

Calmed his agitated breath and dropped his body once more toward the couch, placing the makeshift weapon in a place near the control board. Three hours earlier, he had left behind the USG Ishimura and Aegis VII, with its unfortunate colony of miners (or what was left of it).

His mission had failed miserably (to say euphemistically that it was meant to go to hell). He had hampered the actions of a government agent. The United Earth Government was going to catch him and gut him!. That would be of course if the Unitology Church didn´t get to him first, for having destroyed their sacred Marker!.

His situation couldn´t be any worse. And if the C.E.C. tried to claim that he had destroyed millions of credits in facilities, not to mention the most famous ship in history, he might as well send them directly to the farthest star.

To hell with them and their expectations!.

He deeply regretted the fate of Captain Hammond. He had been a pawn in that ineffable chain of events. One of several, on a repair mission that hadn´t been like any other. He had never worked with him before, and wasn´t supposed to feel any particular regret for him. But his words roamed still fresh in his mind, like three days ago:

_Isaac, if I can get to the bridge, I should be able to access the personal files. You fix the tram and I'll help you find Nicole..._

His motives and reasons were not like those of Kendra Daniels, hidden under the guise of peaceful woman, confident of herself. Where Hammond was accurate and concerned about the welfare of his crew, however small it was, Kendra didn´t mind sacrificing the lives of others as to attain her goal.

No wonder they didn´t agree in many things.

And then there was Nicole ...

His sole and painful reason to stay alive, to explore the endless ducts, full of that indescribable smell of death. That nervous smile that besieged him countless times throughout the trip, showing some last-minute-found loyalty... even if it was only in a recording.

She turned out to be... he preferred not to think about it. So deeply affected he had been because of the experience.

All those terrible memories beset his head for ten minutes after awakening, and, being still fearful of looking to the shadows, afraid of finding himself face to face with one of those horrible things that haunted his dreams, decided not to sleep again. When he escaped away from that planet, weariness had won over. Now with renewed strength, he decided that he would only truly rest when he saw the sunlight from his home planet.

While the ship took him close to the stellar routes of the C.E.C., made a quick mental calculation about how long he would be stranded. The prospect was not encouraging. The shuttle and its systems were not half as efficient as those of the Kellion, the ship that brought him. And with the shockpoint engine's poor performance, it might take several weeks before he arrived or was somewhere near any intermediate space station, to find something in the limited range of the communication equipment. To make matters worse, someone else had come up with the brilliant idea of launching the distress beacon of that specific vehicle, so there was no hope of sub-space rescue messages.

He let out a breath, reflecting his fatigue and rose from his seat, looking in the crew compartment for any ration that would allow him to face the prospect of a long and tedious journey home. Luck favored him, to find a good supply of canned food rations, and enough energy drinks to keep him alive for a couple of months. That was certainly the work of Kendra. Grabbed a dry ration and breaking the food packaging, he eagerly devoured it. Said to himself he would have to ration his food more carefully, and hopefully it would last to reach a point where he could launch a distress message. Then he would have to live on air...

He was about to disable his RIG, when the comm equipment on the ship jumped to life, conveying a message that the man listened carefully:

- Hello... hello?, can anyone hear me? - Said an anxious voice that the distorted radio transmission couldn´t disguise:

- I´m Ribbel Connors broadcasting from the bridge of the USG Ishimura... If there is anyone out there listening, please!... we need help! - The increasing panic in her voice rising like a tsunami, unabated.

- The ship was attacked by a kind of plague and there are no emergency vehicles to escape!... - panting - ...we have little ammo and supplies!... for the love of God... if anyone hears me, there are three survivors!... please, we need help!, send someone!, whatever... but for heaven's sake get us out of here!...

Isaac raised his hand to answer the call, the frantic woman's voice pleading still on the radio. Suddenly he stopped.

Why would he have to respond?, because of what unusual reason he should return to that accursed ship and risk his neck?, wasn´t it still fresh in his mind what happened the last time he responded to a distress call?...

He stopped and turned off the radio, letting his body lie down on the soft command chair. He had already lost everything, even Nicole. The eternal nightmares that haunted him, would last a lifetime.

Why should he be disturbed even more?, had fate perhaps not had enough, snatching what he wanted most in the world?, did he needed to go on and pay with his own existence?...

And then something happened:

The complete recording of the last transmission of Nicole started running again, threatening to end with what little sanity he had left. He stretched a hand to stop that recording too, and suddenly found he couldn´t. That horrible sense of deja-vu grappled him once more. Turned quickly to his right, but there was no monster waiting to skin him alive and rip his eyes out of their sockets. The cold sweat ran from his forehead down his cheeks.

And then, seeing the pleading look of the blonde, tired from the long hours of anxiety and sleeplessness he had been through, considering there was nothing left inside him, that could move him to compassion, discovered he was wrong. A few heartstrings that still had intact, stirred. Mixed emotions invaded his mind. Intense feelings he thought he never again would experience.

The engineer felt dejected, drawn by a whirlwind. Emotions that his mind told him, should be banished, seized him. Sighed deeply and thought about her. Wherever she would be now, wouldn´t forgive him if he fled from this situation as he had done earlier. He turned off the recording, about the time the body of his love was collapsing from the poison of "that little thing", capable of ending her suffering. Dropping a furtive tear, which mixed itself with cold sweat, tretched a hand and turned on the radio. A frantic Ribbel Connors still sobbed on the open channel. Tapping his head against the dashboard, and knowing full well that he should be completely crazy to do what he was about to, adjusted the correct frequency and inhaled deeply, preparing to speak directly to environmental microphone, ignoring the frantic screams of the voice of reason:

Don´t look back. What you find, you may not like...

The lesson the previous dreams had given him buzzed around his head like a hive of angry bees, yet he chose to ignore it. Sighing heavily, he replied, trying to contain all the anxiety and horror that, at that very moment threatened to destroy him:

- I am Isaac Clarke, C.E.C. level-five engineer, survivor of the destroyed ship USG Kellion. Miss Connors... I am in possession of an executive shuttle and I´m about... - his left hand moved quickly to check the star charts - ...three hours from the ship. If you can survive until then...

I will get you out of there.


	2. Memories of a forgotten world

Dead Space and their characters are properties of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores) , Mirror´s Edge and their characters are properties of Digital Illusions (DICE). I claim no economic benefit of this story.

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_**Chapter One:**_  
_**Memories of a forgotten world**_

_¡Oh, memoria, enemiga mortal de mi descanso!_  
Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra.

**Olympus City, Mars**  
Little more than two weeks before the Ishimura Incident...

A tall slim girl with pronounced Asian features, short hair in a bob slightly disheveled at the tips, wearing an impeccable business suit that fit perfectly her slim but shapely body, walked towards the entrance of the building in front of her, balancing a bag of regular size with a carefree attitude. She had just stepped off of a transport that brought her from the spaceport of Olympus City, freshly unpacked from a flight from Earth, where she had spent the last five days.

The New Heaven neighborhood, on the second level of the city, more than two thousand meters above the datum of the cyclopean colossus known as the _Olympus Mons_, welcomed her. The district was one of the few places in the Sol System that still retained the facades of the old buildings of the twenty-first century Earth. The residential itself was built with a retro style in mind, that some experts - including her- admired, although some people tended to disregard such behavior as mere nostalgia. In her heart, the young woman considered it wasn't really homesickness, but a sincere affection for houses without intruding artificial intelligences, speaking every five minutes to recommend thousands of ways to save energy and looking to control her life at each step.

It was the perfect place for a girl that decided to escape the iron grip of her previous life.

Quickly she went through the threshold of the building and came to an automated guard post, barring access into the building through a reinforced crysteel panel. Across it, the elevators unfolded in the distance, on the far side. On the wall stood a metal plate with a circular groove in a chrome finish, and lightened in clear blue tone. As she approached, a small holographic sign jumped from it:

- "Welcome to the A-35 building of New Heaven Residential Complex. Please stand near the biometric sensor for verification".

The girl stood in front of the plate and it projected a thin blue beam that ran over her body up and down quickly, highlighting her slender and well toned features. The male voice on the machine - sexy!, according to her particular tastes- addressed her.

- "Ribbel Connors: Therapist and Zero Gravity instructor, Training Team, C.E.C. Alpha Unit. Tenant of apartment number eleven twenty. Please proceed to eye and voice pattern check for authentication".

The slim girl positioned her eye off the plate and let the blue, low-intensity laser observe the particularities of her iris, while she repeated the parliament for speech recognition. An old song -old for the standard of what she used to hear- that seemed appropriate because of the nostalgia factor and proved the perfect choice:

- _"Oh, I'm still alive, I'm still alive, I can not apologize, no..."_

- "Iris recognition test... positive. Speech recognition test... positive. Welcome back, Ribbel Connors!. You have twenty messages in your personal mailbox. Energy consumption in your apartment has been reduced by eighty-five percent. Food stored in your fridge is in a state of decompos..." - said the voice, revealing an incredibly thin opening in the transparent panel, which gave way.

She left behind the guard post, showing great disgust, and as she approached the elevator, thinked only of discarding the suit she had been forced to wear during the last twenty four hours. Overseeing the training of recruits of the Concordance Extraction Corporation on the _ISS Hope_ facilities, for future operations of the company in Mercury, was one of the responsibilities of her rank she couldn' t set aside under any circumstances. Never mind that she had been taken out of her vacation in advance, or that her immediate boss, old Yushchenko, had used that tone of voice so particular when he needed something done without excuse or pretext. She would be having a chat with the chief of special staff for such a violation of the rules, but that would have to wait for a couple of days, when her resting period had officially ended.

Hoped the company would compensate her with three more days of paid rest as promised. But commanding her to visit the Mother Planet, if only from orbit, didn' t bring her any comfort.

Too many pleasant memories, too many that weren't...

The janitor A.I. kept pestering her with different issues, but when the elevator finally arrived, decided she didn't want to be there, trapped for two long minutes with any of her less than pleasant neighbors. Seeing that none of them were in the elevator, threw her bag to the cab and hit the switch for the fifth floor. As soon as she gave the order, sprinted toward the stairs that were to the left of the elevator tunnel, as the door closed. She entered the emergency stairs like a whirlwind and ran up them two at a time, her body protesting because of the accumulated fatigue, and being ignored in favor of the frenzy of the race. Jumped through the metal railings and giving a pirouette that betrayed her excellent balance, stood over one of them, then took a second leap to the wall defining the cube of stairs. A new impulse and a triangular jump and she had already reached the next floor. A bit of running and had already risen to the third. On the way to the fourth she almost bumps into one of the tenants, who only managed to stick to the wall to avoid being run down by her. Ribbel ignored his protest and kept running, concentrated. Took another leap and then clung to the ledge that defined the fifth floor, using her momentum to raise her fifty-five kilos of weight and hundred-eighty centimeters of stature, and break for the corridor. Opened the back door with a slam and surprised two more of the owners, who were waiting in front of the elevator door.

When the contraption finally came, the Asian girl got her bag back, to their astonished looks and throwing it over her shoulder, made for her apartment.

She could swear there were voices behind her saying things like "crazy girl" or other stuff, but give them little importance.

Once she closed the door of her house, the seemingly endless discourse of the Janitor A.I. was interrupted and peace reigned in her mind for a while. Well... excepting of course for some little -no, not a littlle... a lot!- foul smelling, emanating from somewhere in her kitchen. Maybe that was one of the things the construct wanted to tell her... every thing else seemed to be in order.

Left the bag lying near the door and proceeded to check the refrigerator, terribly regretting the moment she opened the fridge. _Food isn't like before anymore. Either that or my refrigerator is broken. Probably the latter..._ Got rid of the source of odors and proceeded to activate the ventilation system of the apartment. And then, once finished with the source of her displeasure, decided to lie down for a moment in the leather chair. _Genuine leather mind you, worth a fortune!_, from her austere, minimalist room.

- Finally home! - commented aloud and taking off her shoes, rested a few minutes closing her eyes.

She didn't sleep much during the trip back, but she had still the rest of the afternoon before her superiors called to request a report. She couldn't sleep however. She' d better find out if there was any change in the various projects she had been involved in the last few weeks.

Got up, walking quietly to the window of the spacious place she called home and, with a movement, opened the curtains to let the light of the white city come in. Turned inward and saw the appearance of her apartment change. One hundred and fifty square meters. All that space for herself, in a quiet area of one of t he less populated cities of Mars. One of the advantages of working for humanity 's third largest corporation.

Life on Olympus City was what one would consider living in eden. Other settlements, such as Tharsis, in the plain to the east, or Mariner's Resort to the south -scuttlebutt saying it was the landing site of the old twentieth-century satellite, the Mariner 9-, or the only recently rebuilt Mars Capita -which had suffered extensive damage after the independence revolt eight years ago-, hadn't been sponsored by the company, but EarthGov. She didn't envy the poor bastards who lived there. Overpopulation -primary cause of the Earth being abandoned in favor of other locations - was the norm when it came to the Human race.

Sighed again and watched to the outside. The massive city around her, with its hustle and circumstance, was surpassed only by the Dobrovska-Hellas conglomerate, inside the Hellas crater-plain. It was five times bigger than any of the original settlements of the mother planet, such as the abandoned cities of New York, Tokyo, London and Hong Kong. Of course, when compared to the current "axis- cities ", risen as a result of the Global Warming Epidemic of the twenty-second century, it paled without hesitation. "Paling" was the right word: The huge skyscrapers and other characteristic buildings, reached a minimum of twenty-fiv e stories, and reflected on its walls the alabaster color of the "sanitized" blocks the C.E.C. had used to build them.

The prevailing architecture was equal parts stone blocks, refined metals and reinforced polymer supermaterials, all of it reinforced with "bucky-carbon" fibers, all compacted and freed from the "ferrous oxide III" that still permeated the entire planet. The area had a whitish appearance that stayed like that, just because it was shielded by the "Aegis", a graviton field with repeaters along the Olympus plateau, which repelled specific particles and served as insulation against "hematite" floating in the air. Occasionally the city was assaulted by scarlet storms bouncing off the shield**,** reminding people that, were it not for the monstrous cold fusion reactor that powered the graviton field, housed in the basement of the city's tallest building, a giant albino eight kilometers high, called "The Shard", it would have been long since the red Martian dust still prevalent, would have buried them.

Despite that, the light, heat and water resulting from the extensive terraforming of the planet were not sufficient, but Concordance had invested a fortune in the twin city of its headquarters, so systems and services were only the best. Without comparison in all regions of the space inhabited by man.

The slender girl left behind the window, throwing one last sigh and releasing her mind from such depressing thoughts. With elegant and careful movements, she approached a small holographic pedestal located right on the far end of the room :

- Alfides... time to work!, personal mailbox please.

The tube, which harmonized perfectly with the sober furnishings, beamed. The artificial intelligence inhibited within, coming to life and showing activity by illuminating the contours and stylized fretwork recorded in its enclosure. A giant laser-delineated screen appeared before her. The digitized face of the tenant became outlined and cut up in a corner posit ion, leading to a series of intertwined blue rays forming a sober message screen, literally inscribed on thin air. A voice of neutral accent and refined manners began to mention every message accumulated during the last five days of her absence.

Things like recommendations on investment projects of the corporation, unwanted messages trying to sell many things like a trip to New Eden Prime -the most exclusive resting colony in hype- or a civilian RIG -Resources Integrated Device- hidden in something as small as a ring. All of it a waste of her time, even though the RIG didn't sound as such a bad idea. Reflexively, she stretched her arm to touch the electronic device inserted in her spine. _There must be a way to make this technology less intrusive._

Made also a mental note to ask one of the technicians for implementing new routines for email filtering. The algorithms of her helpful AI were becoming obsolete . She didn't really hate personal AI' s. No more than one can hate a piece of furniture because of its poor fabrication or being aesthetically unpleasant. Computer intelligences had become a standard in almost all aspects of life, for better or worse, and that wasn't about to change anytime soon. She could and lived with them all the time, and even used them for small purposes, as long as there was a tight grip on what they could and couldn 't do and recommend her.

Went over the content of some communications. There were talks of her friends of the Society of Low Gravity Athletics of Mars -the largest sports club in the city -, to which she was affiliated and had represented in the last zero gravity obstacles rally, where she had won second place from all the globe. Several recommendations for renewal of her subscription to "Interestellar Sports Illustrated" or messages of some of her many friends. There seemed nothing worth while comment.

Something caught her eye though, and making a hand movement, selected a message that her "electronic butler" hadn't yet mentioned. It was a transmission made last night, from the Main Headquarters, received while she was traveling back to Mars:

From: Princo CEC Admin038 Stand054  
Sendtime: 07:25 mars day (OSM 00:00)  
To: Miss Connors Ribbel  
Date: 25XX XX Thalius  
Subject: We require your urgent presence

For Your Eyes Only

Please see the attached file and follow protocol CECPER458SDXW

Seeattachment4X53F3ADG8X

Immediately, she gestured for the attached video-fragment, and falling back to her chair, sat down and played it. On the screen appeared, offset by the blue dye laser projection, the face of a Caucasian man, facing thick, maybe in his forties, rugged features and prominent nose. Found him a strangely-attractive typ e -like Earth girls found "interesting" the men of the European-Russian Military Zone, ie mature, seasoned and tough men- despite his corpulence of polar bear and sullen air. The man moved the framing and began:

- Ribbel!, you better check this message first thing in the morning! - his face could hardly explain the emotion that the individual seemed to experience. Held up a data pad, which stirred briefly, while continuing:

- Do you know what this is?... clearance for boarding the USG Ishimura. Yes, I know you're wondering at this very moment: " What's all this about, Polar Bear?!". You don't know to what do we owe all this, do you?. No... surely you have no idea - the type continued while gesturing with his hands nervously. The raven-haired made a grimace of disgust.

- This... - pointed to the gadget in his hands - ...is the wildest dream of the people of twenty worlds. I can't say anything right now, but you are to report early tomorrow to the Alpha C.E.C offices for briefing. Hell!, I can hardly wait! - and just like that he ended the transmission, sporting a smile from ear to ear.

Ribbel raised an eyebrow in surprise. The owner of such enthusiasm was Michael Varsington Tercero, current Chief of Staff of the Alpha Unit, and the most promising of her relationships. She had met him during her recruitment test for the unit three years ago. Their friendship, which was what their colleagues used to say when viewed them together, hid an attraction that every day was harder to conceal. Concordance didn't allow for relationships between co-workers of the Unit, although it would turn a blind eye when it came to engineers, planetary miners or colonists. The slender girl hoped their mutual interest would end in a more formal commitment, even if the company so skip a beat.

There was something she did not like though. Any relevant information should have been referred by her immediate superior, Anton Yushchenko, one of the legends of the department. That wasn't a good sign. Concordance's bureaucracy rarely allowed such protocol violations, and in other circumstances, such a procedure would have led to a severe penalty. She really hoped Mike hadn't got in trouble for such outburst, but it didn't stop her from considering such message an irregular situation.

Decided she didn't want to nurture any more suspicions. Ordered the A.I. to return to standby. Picked her bag, took it to her room and took off her formal suit, revealing her femenine though brief forms. Pulled from the closet one of the corporate suits and synchronizing her RIG, dressed quickly. As she watched her stylized and defined figure, product of years of exercise and hard work, reminded herself that when she was younger, although she was never considered a "great beauty", that didn 't stop some few "malicious boys" -as her father used to call them-, from approaching to woo her, back in her native Alberta.

Having been raised in a region of the American Free Zone -in what was once Canada, more exactly-, where customs were rather relaxed, and social pressure wasn't as stiff, she spent a pleasant childhood. Sometimes she thought with hints of guilt, that luck had smiled too much upon her, when people elsewhere had faced many problems and responsibilities at an early age.

Perhaps all of that tranquility and peace that surrounded her while being raised, compared to the chaos that unfolded elsewhere, was what made her decide to leave home at an early age. Alberta was the exception to the rule of the towns of the American Free Zone -a name that had come with the Global Warming Epidemic and the subsequent Scarlet Plague Pandemic of the twenty-second century-, but she couldn't deny that many other settlements in the region were still overcrowded, despite EarthGov 's efforts to sponsor the establishment of colonies in different worlds in the galaxy, away from home.

While she spent a sweet childhood, surrounded by people who cared for her, the world beyond the borders of her home was falling apart, kept alive only by the gargantuan loads of natural resources that the colonies -up till The Secessionist War- and later the "Planet Cracker" class vessels of Concordia brought to Earth.

She left the house remembering that, last time she'd seen her father, she had shut the door almost in his face, angry be cause he wanted to retain her. Couldn't he understand that the atmosphere at home had become stifling?, that the things she had learned in school, about the collapse of humanity and its subsequent journey to the stars were things that she couldn't take for granted?, that she had to see it all for herself, even though it meant facing a most cruel and disturbing reality than what she always knew?...

Pretexts.

She had left home because she couldn't bear her father trying to control her life. Because she didn't want to be considered a child anymore. Because if she stayed another hour in that little wooden house, with electric heat insulating it from the harsh cold of the morning and the promise of a warm bed and food served strictly at two in the afternoon, she would never get herself to leave...

And would die of grief for not seeing beyond her little world.

Fifteen minutes later, she left the apartment and approaching the sidewalk, gestured some holographic commands on her RIG to call for a vehicle. Within a minute, a public transport stopped. It was equally a cross between a bolt and a chrome-trimed slider aircraft, in which the side door opened automatically. Ribbel entered and quickly adjusting the belt ordered:

- To the northeast trans-center, ASAP!

It wasn't very far a distance, but she needed to go down near the spaceport again. It was a journey of almost ten minut es in which her attention was kept busy, watching the quiet streets of the city. Noticed how there was almost no municipal officials to public view. And it was true, the real strength of Olympus City was their contingent of public AI's.

Whoever said the Concordance planners were an unimaginative bunch, was right. The municipal artificial constructs created by them, and named like the twelve Olympians, were the entities that jointly handled the thousands of cases of Ol ympus City. For example, _Apollo_ was in charge of health issues, _Hermes_ was all about communications. _Athena_ was responsible for organizing the various issues of culture and omnipotent _Zeus_ sitting on its hyper-technological throne in the heights of "The Shard", managed the cold-fusion reactor and controlled the "Aegis".

They and other minor constructs were literally the city government, practically taking care of the life support systems that kept the city going. The "general public" took it as a joke at first, the fact that a few bits and bytes were efficient enough to manage a settlement as large as this. Fifteen years after it s founding, however, the number of complaints had been almost minimal for a population of over three million people, and residents no longer considered it laughable, but something they took for granted with great gratitude.

So cybernetics had condemned to oblivion of one of the handiest human trades in history.

All hail the anti-bureaucracy!

The shuttle arrived soon to the transit station. From there one could travel to different parts of the world, etiher in vehicles or on an air-vacuum train, which connected the city with its closest partners in the Hellas Planitia. The train was a magneto-dynamic levitation machine, ultra-fast and perfectly designed to get around the giant vacuum tube located in the bowels of _Olympus Mons_. If one wanted to go to farther places like Port Lowell or Umbra, on the other side of the planet, air transport was cheaper. The vacuum train was cheap and efficient for local operations only.

Unhurriedly, she entered the boarding area. This bore little resemblance to the giant hangars addressed in past centuries, when modern transport centers were just beginning. Instead of the typical structure with lockers, walkways and lugagge services, the picture revealed an open area, located at the far end of the spaceport but well within the area of influence of the force field that shielded the city. It featured a series of metal plate s with rivets and gates, outlined like giant runways separated by strips of slabs of sturdy Concrete-V.

At the near end, there were sorting machines -one for each lane, indicating the destinations available-, embedded in medium-large size cylinders with a "hard- tech" appearance, so common in the contraptions of humanity. Standing next to each structure, was a representative of the Land Transport Company of Mars. The officer -a woman in most cases-, was there to welcome the traveler. A human courtesy in a fully automated process, and to put an electronic mark on the traveler's RIG. Then deposited their bags in the cylindrical machine which had a rectangular opening where different sizes of luggage fit. Once done, a holographic signal indicated the user where his or her place on the train was. If the way to the seat was too long -some trains used to have lengths in excess of one kilometer- a moving belt would help to get to the correct place along the metal plate. Arriving where the position indicator ordered, an armchair came through the gates on the floor and waited for the passengers to sit, then sank and deposited him directly into his cabin or reserved seat. As a result of this, the passenger never saw the carriage but when he came down, as it was housed in a shielded underground enclosure.

The brunette walked into the corridor announcing travels every ten minutes to the slopes of _Olympus Mons_. It had a laser marquee showing, gigantic size, the symbol of the C.E.C. Instead of the cylindrical container of other corridors, it had only a metal arc pedestal, which passengers must pass . By walking through it, the device in question read the RIG of the travelers -both personal computer and identification- and assigned locations, stops and routes, according to the hierarchy of each person. Concordance boasted to maintain strict controls on the information provided to the public, and the thing was no different when it came to its employees. It really took very seriously its role of "benevolent Big Brother".

At other times, the word "totalitarianism" and its meaning, used in relation to the Concordance Corporation, would have been a well known thing.

Ribbel boarded the train and soon started the journey. Seven minutes later her RIG told her that she was coming near the main corporate building. She didn' t go there very often. Her place of work was the Low Gravity Training Complex "C.E.C. Alpha Zero", which was five minutes ahead on the plateau, west of the Martian volcano. However Varsington ordered her to go to the headquarters of the Alpha Unit, and all employees knew those facilities were in the main settlement.

Got off the train and looked around, searching the tunnels of the station. The cavities, cold and impersonal, lead up to the main lobby of the building. If she could look at it from the Martian surface, she would see a barrier of cyclopean stone walls and plasteel, in a very light brown tone, with panoramic windows of crysteel, arranged so that it could pass as a small town. Office towers at the ends and gardens and recreational areas in sealed domes amidst buildings. Undoubt edly the C.E.C. considered carefully the appearance of its offices. The hint of nostalgia for the old corporate image of the earth companies of the twentieth century was more than evident.

Once at the entrance of the building, she approached the reception module. An electronic construct, its features defined by a pale light and dressed like a Greek god, misshapen, and yet with powerful muscles, appeared before her. With a deep, well-modulated voice it said:

- Ribbel Connors, Alpha Unit, Rehabilitation and Physical Therapy Specialist and Zero-G Trainer. You are being waited for in the offices of your department. Deadline in five minutes. Proceed as directed by your RIG situational cues and please report to Delegate Michael Varsington Tercero...

She said nothing. There was no need to. Besides _Hephaestus_, the program that controlled the affairs of the building, wasn't particularly friendly.

The girl went on, following a holographic beam coming out of her business suit telling her where to go. It was easy to get lost in the corporate building, among many offices. People running to and fro, following their own "guiding lines", receiving instructions by video or scrutinizing data over their RIGs. Each head t here was a world literally and she couldn't trust anyone becoming distracted from his activities to indicate her the route. She moved properly, following the signs, which led her to an elevator. There, along twenty other people, went up to the seventeenth floor and left. Each of them turned to a different corridor.

She was about to check her instructions for the umpteenth time, when the voice of her superior got her out of her reverie:

- Ribbel!... Quick, the information meeting is about to start!.

He waved from the door of a meeting room. Ribbel ran as fast as her suit allowed her, stumbling due to the rigidity of the formal attire, as the doors closed. She didn't imagine what could be so important that _Hephaestus_ decided to isolate the boardroom, something out of the ordinary in the building.

Looked around while coming in. In the large room with padded chairs, whose wall sported the symbol of the Alpha Unit, a stylized Greek letter superimposed over the symbol of Concordance, were at least a dozen people who turned to her. By their looks they seemed midrange executives, but the decals, indicators and suit patches of Obsidian and Elite Engineering class of some of them, and Scorpion Planetary Extraction of others, said there weren't all "cannon fodder". Excepting Michael, she didn't knew any of them and, judging by appearances, few of those present had ever worked together.

_Hephaestus_ reappeared, its silhouette protruding from one of the stands reserved for the A.I. and decreasing the power of light in the room, enlarged its figure to human size. The crowd made no move, accustomed to the surly and condescending demeanor of the construct. None of them, however, failed to react when the contorted figure, making a sort of sleight of hand in open mockery of a dramatic effect, produced a small figure that everyone in that place knew. One that was in all the history books of the Earth and the colonies.

The image was of a type of striated stone, with a wide base made of two pieces stacked on each other and helical-shaped, decreasing amplitude as it curved up, and then separated. At the end of both curves the lines were so narrow and separated, that looked like a pair of horns. On the body of the monolith were ancient inscriptions, alien hieroglyphs that humanity hasn't been able to decipher so far.

The simulacra standing before them said a few sentences, and then all of those present felt the weight of history on their shoulders:

- Prospectors of the colony at Aegis VII, in the Cygnus constellation, found an anomaly, identified as an A-1 class object, according to the Schtranzs-Berdiger-Altman scale. For those not familiar with this classification, it is a device similar to the specimen known as the "Black Marker", found on Earth, and in power of EarthGov... - There was a rumor and gasps of surprise. The buzz lasted a few seconds and then the A.I. launched an immortal phrase, that would determine the fate of all those gathered in that room:

- This object was found on the surface o f the planet, three kilometers away from the main settlement. Because of the six-months rotation of personnel, you have been selected by the company to embark on the USG Ishimura. The length of your trip will be a month and a half. You are to do whatever necessary to bring the relic back home...


	3. Disillusions

_**Dead Space**_ and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), _**Mirror´s Edge**_ and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.

**Chapter two:**

**Disillusions**

Sergei Ilya Yaskolev leaned against one of the chairs of the pristine room to relax while watching Ribbel, resting on a armchair. Exhaustion had won over her and since falling asleep on the train, more or less an hour ago, nothing had disturbed her. The young Slav who had carried her up here, was a little jealous:

_- How can she sleep in the middle of hell? -_

He knew the answer very well, but would not dare to dwell on it. More than once he thought he could be doing the same, trying to escape a suffocating reality that killed him slowly but steadily. He should have been dead, he knew it, and it was just a fluke, one he was deeply grateful to God, Altman or any of those other forgotten deities, that had kept him alive.

First came the garbled distress call that reached their ship, when the EDF Space Command had sent them. Their mission was to monitor the USG Ishimura from afar. Then they found and opened the escape capsule, with several of those monsters on board. His teammates didn´t react quickly enough. Straczynski was the first to fall, cut in two by the sharp bone blade of one of them. Remar got brain-sucked by one of those that looked like an oversized vampire, and soon rose up as one of them. Tong screamed and cried too much, and ended up with their legs slashed. He was one of the few that didn´t rise again.

The ship went astray. As the collision with the massive mining ship was coming, he tried to cling to some safety tethers, but then the gravity panels functioning as incipient floor, malfunctioned. A catapult propelled him upwards at full speed to the ceiling and trapped him there, crushing several of his bones and fissuring three of his ribs, knocking the pulse rifle off him, and flooding all of his being with a sharp, stinging pain, that automatic anesthetic injections in his suite eased a little. He was left stranded without dying...

Then there were forty unending minutes of anguish, in which the deformed monsters that roamed the ship ignored him, as helpless as he was. Forty minutes of pure terror, in which the death throes of his mates were intermingled with the guttural sounds of the creatures, the blinking of the decaying electrical systems, and a sickly barely audible whisper, that called his name softly again and again, slowly and inevitably, driving him crazy...

Worse part however, was when that engineer walked by him. He looked at him as if watching a freak show, with a certain dose of wonder, but little or none concern for its fate. He couldn´t see his face, hidden as it was under the mask of his suite, but could imagine the expressions of wonder, repulsion and pity all at the same time, that might be passing through his face. He had wanted to scream for him to disconnect the systems that pinned him to the ceiling, to make every single effort to get him out, to care, and not leave him to his fate. At the very least he wanted to have him spend one of the charges of his weapon, to release him from his painful, oppressive misery. But his mouth just gave feral short screams, as stunned as he was between pain and stupor.

_And so the man moved away, forgot about him. Left him alone, brooding over his pain and sorrow in the dark... _

Several minutes later, the gravity panel that held him prisoner stopped working. Plummeted over the twisted remains of the derelict ship. What he thought would be his grave, gave him a chance to escape. He got his gun as fast as he could, and ran away, alerted by the voice of the AI of the ship, which maintained an unthinkable degree of composure against the unleashing chaos. The rest was firing without turning back, getting away from the bodies of his ex-teammates and cutting abruptly the "unlife" of the ones that had become his brothers for almost two years, as they appeared to block his escape. He jumped away from the entrance hatch of the ship, flying in zero gravity, and got himself propelled against the wall of one of the main tanks of that gigantic ship of doom.

Drove himself away at full speed, and got to rest after the decompression doors of some antechamber told him he had left the zero-gravity area. His suit was damaged and was short on ammo, but he was still alive. And thus, yelling curses as loud as he could, headed for the tram station. If he was going to die, the ship was a place as good as any for doing so. He had little hope of remaining alive until the Latino and Ribbel found him...

On second thought, it was better the Asian woman slept. At least her memories were not plagued by nightmares that would haunt her until the end of her days...

_- Comrrade rrussian, Would you help me with those cirrcuits, pliss... -_- Rodrigo Cortéz said, exaggerating an Slavic accent, while struggling a bit to reach the bag of power nodes that was on the table behind him. They were in a room that the necromorphs hadn´t found yet, and they hoped the secret would be kept, at least for another two hours until a certain Isaac Clarke arrived with the shuttle.

_- I'm not Russian... tovaryš. My family is of Ukrainian descent -_ said in a clipped tone as he took the bag and approached the work bench in which the engineer was busy, repairing the various circuits in a faulty Contact Beam they had found.

_- Ah, the Rus do not get along! -_ mentioned the one in the brown suit, extracting one of the disks in the bag and quickly installing it in a small rectangular plate, that was connected by wires of various sizes and colors to the power condenser of the weapon. He moved his hands quickly while giving orders to the bench´s internal systems, to make the appropriate modification to the weapon.

_- Some time ago, our fates were still separated. But an adverse situation and a handful of retrograde people caused us to be reunited... -_- said the soldier with a notorious rebuke.

Tensions between Ukraine and its Russian neighbors were not any news. For more than a thousand years, the legacy of Kievan Rus had been the subject of dispute between the existing nations of Belarus, Ukraine and Russia. The three countries had a common past, rich in tradition and history. However the same problem that caused the powerful Kievan Rus empire to disappear, was the same one that kept them separated (the individual interests of each of the disparate regions of the nation, to be precise). Even when put together as the Soviet Union, the nationalist seed was already there, planted and waiting. As the communist giant fell, nationalism and its inherent disputes resurfaced again. And after three hundred years of separation from their siblings, to establish an identity, as Ukraine had healed his wounds and was ready to face the world on their own terms...

_- Ah, the fault lies with desglaciados slanted eyes. Those Chalie Chan-types who know only how to almidonal camisas... -_ the engineer commented sarcastically, while typing some things in the circuit board. The Slavic couldn´t help but smile to himself. Despite being a deeply racist comment (in a world where the concept of race was becoming less than important), the Mexican seemed to care little. It was very likely a reflection of a culture that turned against itself, shaped over hundreds of years by situations of profound social inequality...

Or maybe he had some measure of reason. Never mind the world was falling apart all around them. Taking things too seriously could lead to despair and madness almost immediately.

He was right about one thing though: The China - USA war of nearly two centuries ago ruined the geopolitical map of that side of the world and gave Russia the perfect pretext to form a new alliance with his Rus comrades. An alliance in which they had the part of the lion...

_One more disillusion, in a life where bad moments were commonplace..._

The white-cold, metallic walls were lit with red and yellow flashes which survived only a few seconds and died, while the bench radiated a white light that was reflected in the suit of the engineer. And then the work bench contracted itself over, while the man in the black and brown suit withdrew the heavy black Contact Beam and offered it to the boy-soldier, holding it in a hand:

_- Done. It's a little lighter and will not consume too much battery power per shot, so we needn´t worry so much about ammo - _

The Ukrainian said nothing and just checked the laser sight, as well as the improvised weapon systems. It was certainly very useful to have an engineer on hand. But how could he trust this man, who seemed unable to face life with the right attitude?. How would he know that this knight in engineering armor wouldn´t turn his back on them at the right time?.

_- What is it Slav?, why do you doubt? -_ the other said raising his face mask. His tanned features, small but strongly formed, could not hide his half Spanish and half Latin-American native heritage. But his eyes, featuring a deep brown color, belied any trace of humor, with which he tried to disguise his behavior.

_- Can you not trust me, is that it?, do you think my mind is going to break before escaping this hell?, do you think I will not be able not return? -_

The Slav seemed surprised. He heard stories about select people in mankind´s history having developed a latent psychic ability. He however, never thought to find, of all places, one of them in this circumstances. He turned himself quickly to hide his surprise, as the Latino sported a rogue's face and grinning:

_- Don´t worry ... I don´t read minds or that sort of mumbo-jumbo, but even the least clever is able to "do the math" regarding my behavior -_

Sergei blushed feeling cheated, and didn´t know what to say. The straigthforwardness of feelings that these people populating America featured, was something that, despite all his years of living together with people of different traditions, embarrassed him a little:

_- You seem the least afraid of us. When you talk you give the impression that you don´t care. And the moment of facing those things... you rejoice in destroying them outright. I don´t know what to think!, Prokljattja!. You say that you were never military, yet...! - _said the soldier boy, being as straightforward as possible. From the experience with his own colleagues of service, the one thing he had clear, was that these men valued the aforementioned qualities, above all things.

_- I'm flattered my friend, really... and it says enough. You're wrong about one thing, though. I am not as impervious to terror as you think. There is a huge reason for my behavior however, one too important to ignore. One that will not let me rest in peace until returning home to make things right... -_

So spoke the Latino, seriously, without moving an inch, raising his eyebrows as his thoughts seemed to wander. The Ukrainian did not ask, but noted in the eyes of this man a strange spark. It was the same one that eventually saw in the looks of some of his colleagues. That look that reveals the desire for revenge, the glow in the eyes of those who are not willing to be intimidated by difficulties. Of those who end up dead or killing those who wronged them. That's what he saw at the time and, recognizing that terrible and overwhelming emotion, he looked away. The blond soldier decided not to ask who or what had driven the Latino into that personal torment. There are things a man does well not to speak of.

A roar got them out of their reverie. The sound of metal-bending made them turn towards the ceiling of the room, in which the ventilation grille they had soldered was bending inward. The Ukrainian approached Ribbel and took her arm, lifting her. Rodrigo pointed upwards the Contact Beam. The Asiatic roused, startled by the repeated hits that threatened to rip the grate. The soldier offered him the plasma cutter and she took it, retreating backwards, instinctively moving away from danger. The Slav took his pulse rifle from the floor, right at the moment in which the grid was dropping and one of these monstrosities was getting down in the middle of the room.

One shot of the Contact Beam sent the creature back, propelling it right into the wall and stamping it with enormous force. Two shots of the plasma cutter and both members, enormous bloodstained knifes, were cut from the body, the whole monster lying on the ground not to rise again. Sergei´s shots pierced the entrance of the ventilation duct and a scream filled the air, fading soon. The only proof that something had been there, was a trickle of blood that fell on the metal floor. The three survivors pointed to the little tunnel as the sound of footsteps around him grew distant, until it became inaudible:

_- This place is not safe anymore. Our best bet is the tram again, but the station is quite a bit far away... -_ the Slavic said approaching the door.

_- Better get the hell out of here while we can - _said the slender woman while still pointing towards the hole.

_- I agree. We have two hours left still until extraction - _the Mexican said, hinting a slight tremor in his voice.

_Without one flinch, and hurrying themselves as much as humanly possible, collected their things and the engineer got in front of the door. Ribbel stood behind him covering its sides and Sergei got the rear guard, still pointing backwards. Giving themselves one last look of despair, all nodded, and then Rodrigo shook his hand and the door opened..._


	4. Undying Glory

_**Dead Space**_ and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), _**Mirror´s Edge**_ and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.

* * *

**Chapter Three:**

**Undying Glory **

_**Seven hours before Ribbel message.**_

_Lateral tunnel outside manual control room_

_USG Ishimura Bridge_

The mortal coldness seeping through the suit paralyzed him. A couple of blood droplets slid down his forehead and his whole life passed before him in an instant. Suddenly he found in horror, that once his life ended, nothing would stand, nothing of the things he lived for, fought for, and loved. He found himself inmersed in the realization that life is a piece in an incomplete puzzle, never destined to be solved...

_A life full of experiences, that in light of a pale moment, dissolved like sand castles in the sea..._

He had walked through the halls of the Ishimura, as the lost soul he was. The mission that had forced him to be there, had ended badly. He felt no sorrow or pity for the girl he had been ordered to care for. Actually he couldn´t imagine how would it end otherwise, being she as assiduous to run here and there like a runaway horse in an unbridled frenzy. She would remain in perpetual stasis in the zero-g therapy area chamber, where they had put her, until the energy of the fifteen fusion reactors was depleted or something destroyed the ship.

Monsters roamed the dark corners. The _necromorphs_ that had wiped out almost the entire population, had pursued him. Tireless, determined to follow him to the end of history if necessary. The animal ferocity of these creatures was a feature that should not be underestimated. The red-haired woman, head of security of the ship and his team had done it and it ended up in them fleeing. Some time after, he saw her record a message and commit suicide, giving a futile opportunity to the C.E.C. to recover the ship.

_Not him... he could not die..._

That´s what he thought between delirium and shock. He must return to Earth to get his due. His mind remained stagnant in the moments that defined his life. The encounter with the monster that Dr. Mercer called the "Hunter". A horror of over two meters with terrible sores on the skin, a semi-human figure and two bony blades that cut through the panels of an air vent as if they were made of butter. The demonic masterpiece of a bloody genius. When he found it, in the front hallway leading to the bridge, it rushed at him. It was really angry and smashed the gravitational panels of two corridors while chasing him. Facing it was crazy, and trying to do so unarmed, was suicide...

They ran through the halls, the elusive creature attacking him and trying in vain to knock him down. He managed to trap it´s arm with the door of the main hall and nearly severed the rotting flesh. Any other being would have turned and fled after a so fierce rebuke. Not the Hunter... It perforated the steel panels with its free arm, showing its tremendous force, and made the man lean back. The door opened with a terrible roar and the creature came into the hall, their misshapen features illuminated by a sickly yellow color caused by the quarantine alarm. Terror had begun to hold him and he could barely contain himself when he saw the monster looking at its mangled arm and realize the futility of it.

The gesture that followed would be etched in his mind, in that forgotten corner where people kept all of the excruciating moments of life:

_The creature raised the blade that he still had intact and with a quick motion, severed his own half-mutilated arm._

Fear was huge. And it was unrestrained even more, as seeing the horrible body regenerate and grow a new limb to a bewildering speed. The sirens of the room only increased the sense of panic. All he could do was run, and he tried to do so, tripping over the viscous remains of another necromorph, almost falling into a hole in the front corner of the bridge. Scratched the edges of the depression with all his strength, knowing full well that the tearing in the main plant led to a fall of eight feet, just above a vertical set of rods in the manual control room of the ship. Tried to rise with the strength of his arms, but the sight of the approaching Hunter was enough to make him stop.

_Three more steps and this thing will be upon me!…_

_Two more steps!…_

_One !..._

He didn´t think it twice. The odds of surviving that fall were few, but the odds of confronting the monster and living to tell didn´t even exist. He closed his eyes, shutting them as hard as he could and jumped, trying to dodge the deadly obstacles at the end of the fall. He hoped not to land on something even more dangerous. His ears were filled with the panic shriek of a poor little bastard:

_His own..._

Landed suddenly and violently. He knew from the piercing pain in his leg, that he had it broken. And then the suit began its curative function by injecting massive amounts of stimulants, anesthetics and nanomeds to repair the fracture. He remained lying still, trying in vain to maintain consciousness (if he fainted he was not sure he would awaken again), with fear on the edge of his mind, keeping himself alert. It paid to steal the Scorpion Engineering suit. Any other armor would have had it´s efficiency lost with the fall and that would have meant his death. He crawled to an adjoining room and hiding as best as he could, he laid down himself to rest. But he couldn´t fight the slumber. The pain that gripped him suddenly vanished. He couldn´t say whether it was the cold of the void, or the death throes of his suit, trying to save him...

And so, finally consciousness left him little by little, slow enough not to be astonished at the pain, but not so fast as to stop feeling afraid. He looked around, and something in the dim blue light in the room reminded him of the place where his life had truly begun. Without resistance, he abandoned himself to memories...

The beaches of the Copacabana Hotel in Cuba had not changed anything in the last ten years he was away from Earth. The deep blue waters of the Caribbean sea were still a haven in which he liked to lose his eyes, in ecstasy at the light aquamarine blue color of the rolling waves hitting the city. The white sandy beaches, the kind whose sand gets between your feet repeatedly, had preserved the softness so typical of the landings bordering that sea. He seemed to be living that very moment once again, with her lying on the far end of the beach. Her half-naked body bathing in the sunlight. Her tanned skin covered with thin layer of gold that hinted her forms with the grace of a sketch. Her eyes summoning a profound zephyr color as her name. It left a lot to the imagination, but not too much...

_Celeste... _

He walked towards her without paying too much attention to the things all around. But a brown velvet hand stopped him. Turned to see the cinnamon-skinned figure of another woman. Her eyes a deep olive green color, that retained his gaze for seconds that seemed ages. The dimples in her smile guessed the sweet suggestion of an angel, crowned by a waving dark hair riding the ocean breeze. Her lightweight arms surmounted a lean but well-proportioned torso, which was hidden by a colorful floral dress. She so much reminded him the lush jungle that stretched still, some distance away from the city, virgin and unexplored. But it was her legs, long and elegant, the features which had attracted him the most...

_Yaheli..._

Caught between the two women, he was mocked by fate. When he had the chance to find his own particular corner of Eden, he could not take it. A larger duty called him. And both nymphs stood there, frozen in his memory of the beaches of Copacabana Hotel...

_Nor Celeste's death, ocurred in rare circumstances, neither the madness that befall Yaheli, beginning the day he left Cuba, could erase that magic moment._

That fleeting moment gave way to a different one, one he remembered with sudden intensity. It was the day he entered once more in the service of the C.E.C. He had been brought back from the confines of the solar system, from the distant wastelands on icy Charon to be more specific, where he hoped to rot and to forget...

_Forgetting Yaheli´s girly smile and Celeste´s goddess body..._

When he reached the office of the General Director of the C.E.C., after twenty thousand security clearances and fifty thousand biometric checks, he was mentally exhausted, ill-prepared for the person who was waiting, sitting in an office furnished in a classic but unostentatious way. It was the symbol of good taste, together with the means to show. Few people those days could afford it. Behind him, framed by a large window, the imposing mass of Olympus Mons on Mars. Twenty-seven miles high and over six hundred long. A ferrite -basalt shield that rose above any human construction, and, to visitors from other planets, the oppressive feeling that the sky was about to fall onto them.

The back of the furniture chair, upholstered in a fine cloth, betrayed a body wearing a flashy suit of velvet fabric that seemed obscure, and that didn´t disguise it´s thinness, almost to a vanishing point. The gesture, certainly theatrical, of waving his bony hand while appreciating the harmonies of the third movement of Dvorak´s Symphony No. 9, was a cliche, one intended to figure the personality making it, slightly accessible. To hide his condition of god omnipotent, living in the highest volcano in the Solar System. One step right up and a gaunt face, almost cadaverous, formed in his eyes. He suppressed a grimace, hoping something useful would get out of that unwelcome meeting:

_--- Welcome to my humble corner. __You will excuse all the commotion, but I'm a romantic at heart. More Dvorak and Sibelius than Beethoven or Chopin ---_

He didn´t say anything...

Given his stolid reaction, the ethereal body made a gesture and a chair came out from behind, hidden in the wall panels of mahogany and cedar. Flew slightly, to stand in front of the wooden desk and landed there, carefully. It was flawless, in accordance with office furniture. In his exhausted mind the impression was formed, that everything in the room had a disconcerting quality of old. No, not old, anachronistic. A rarity considering that Concordance was the company with the most advanced systems in the world. Not even ARK Devices, supplier of most of the artifacts for public use on Mars, Earth, and other twenty other colonies, had so much technology built into their own business.

The body beckoned him to sit and without waiting for his partner, continued:

_--- The reason why I had you brought here is very simple ... --- _

The reasons were never simple out of necessity...

_--- You know what Project Renaissance is --- _It was simply less a question and more a statement_ --- We have brought you here so you can get to the work you were recruited to do long time ago ---_

His voice didn´t falter, and that last statement fell as a tombstone upon his humanity. He did not expect that dreadful day to come. One gesture directed towards another panel behind them, and a woman clad in a black business suit delivered in her arms a little girl, clearly of Asian features, sleeping peacefully. She made no noise. Deposited the baby gently on the desk before him, as if it were an offering to the dark pagan deity, nameless and omnipotent, that lay before him. His waning little eyes focused on her eyes:

_--- Let me introduce you to the latest subject of the Renaissance Project. She will be the person you should watch over. You will report to me, and me strictly, through private frequency code Theta-542-M. Any failure to do so will be considered treason and punishable subject to expedited action by agents of the C.E.C. Alpha Elite Unit. Do you understand what I'm saying? ---_

He nodded wordlessly.

_--- The first subject of protection will be Armand Delacroix, Elite Operator Alpha-5. He resides as of now in the American Free Zone. __She will be in his care, for the early years of this operation. While this is so, you should watch over them, without them knowing. I repeat... --- _he said and his eyes suddenly went cold as the face of death_ --- Without them knowing... ---_

_--- In what concerns them. I'm a ghost --- _he said feeling a slight tremor in his spine, which he took care of hiding perfectly_ --- What about my reward? ---_

_--- Ah, lost souls always demand something, right?. All right... Watch behind you...--- _

If first impressions made him think that the General Director of C.E.C. was devil incarnate, turning back to look confirmed his suspicions.

_There standing in front of him, were Yaheli and his girly smile in her floral dress, side by side with Celeste and her goddess body. __Both smiled in a sincere, but as far as he knew, impossible way, as a perfect recreation of his most cherished memory..._

_And their voices... when Yaheli approached him and spoke softly to his ear with her childish tone, that she wanted to go home with him, and Celeste came up with that mischievous smile they both knew, asking to share his life again, he couldn´t stand it..._

_-__-- Fresh meat for the rotten souls ---_ said the corpse behind him.

Took a step back as one that sees a vengeful ghost coming frighteningly close. He lost his breathing and had to use all his self control to not bow and twist. His forehead beaded with sweat and he turned to face the cadaverous devil behind him, struggling hard not to run over and strangle him.

_--- I know what you think. But the devil does not exist... not least as the early proto-religions hinted. __Asians have always been more sensible. __They learned to recognize the myriad of internal problems that we commonly refer to as "demons" and wisely said, that "in the grip of them, one is not more free than the most menial of slaves". If you succeed in your mission... you may liberate yourself from your own demons or embrace them. Whatever you see fit..._

_but..._

_Wouldn´t you give it all for a little immortal glory? ---_

That´s what the corpse said while walking, airy and unhurried, in front of him, standing between the three people. And seeing it´s eyes, which did not exhibit the slightest trace of emotion, he told himself that the deal he was about to strike, would condemn him for eternity...

His surroundings changed again ...

He remembered himself walking through the corridors of the Ishimura population deck. He came in joking and chatting with one of the engineers of the mining project. The other man said he had chatted cheerfully with his sister, Vera Cortez, an officer of Aegis VII P-Sec, that same week and was waiting anxiously to see her.

They went out some time fuming about the absurdity of the creed of the Unitology Church and receiving murderous looks from most of the inhabitants of the east wing, where both were staying. On reaching his room the other bade him farewell, promising to buy some few rounds of booze when they got their next payment. After he entered his enclosure, thoroughly reviewed each of the traps he had set in the room (one could never be too sure of certain things). Once he realized no one had set foot in it, took off his work overall and left it in his personal locker, along with the badge that identified him as Dawid Von Alper, Jewish-German specialist miner of American ancestry, who was hired as worker by the item for the six weeks travel.

Reached for a box beneath his bed and pulled out a vacuum-sealed ampule, in which there was an agitating crystalline solution, categorized under the most rigorous medical evidence as _Estyle Water_, a new topical medication to combat the fall of his already retreating hair. But by reacting with substances carefully blended in his diet, it became RCFG, a highly effective facial reconfigurator, the resulting product of some dirty business of Concordance with unscrupulous persons outside the jurisdiction of the EDF. He applied the vial to his face, as if it were a shot, and a micro-needle punctured his facial tissue, providing a fraction of the liquid. A few painful moments after, his original face was present again. The neutralizing effect would last only for a few minutes and then he would return to be the good-natured German-Jew who his co-workers had all come to appreciate.

He walked towards one of the corners of the room and disassembled a small panel, pulling out a military holographic communicator. His equipment had been kindly provided by an agent of the United Earth Government that had considered him a suspect and followed him undercover for a few hours. The poor devil never saw it coming and now lay buried in the outskirts of Mount Tharsis, where nobody would find him even if someone knew exactly where to look. He put the panel on the floor and sat across from his bed, after programming the door to not open automatically by proximity. Activated the transmitter and when the machine asked him for destination and encryption, he asked for encryption protocol Theta-542-M, directly to the C.E.C. offices on Mars.

On the pale blue screen, a greenish cadaverous face appeared before him. He didn´t wait for him to ask:

--- Security report number 10-586, Renaissance Project. Subject security is guaranteed. We will be arriving tomorrow at the Aegis VII colony, and contact with the population will be held at 1600 hours, according to reports by Captain Matthius. Situation is progressing as expected and there are no apparent setbacks ---

_--- Excellent. __Two more weeks. __Your reward awaits you in the place of your choice, in cryostasis as agreed ---_

_--- Over and out ---_ The apocryphal Jewish said cutting the transmission.

Just in time. The neutralizing dose effect ended at that moment and a slight spasm shook his face. Dawid Von Alper deposited the transmitter in the hollow of the panel, and settled again the camouflage, Put the box of ampules under the bed and turned off the lock of the door. As he laid on his bed ready to sleep, weighed the pockets in his fatigue, and watching the little money he still had of previous payment, he thought maybe he should threat that booze to Rodrigo Cortez now...

He regained consciousness breathing hard. His suit informed him that the state of his injuries was bad, but he could survive if he got medical help. Someone had the monorail restored a while ago, so the possibility of reaching the medical deck to find supplies was plausible. He rose as he could and came out of there, remembering on his own memorized map of the ship, that there was a passageway connecting the manual control room with the bridge´s central lift. He reached for the door and it opened quickly.

_Too quick, as if it didn´t respond to him..._

A figure, clad in an astronaut suit looked at him for a second, holding a standard issue EDF gun in front of him. The unknown person didn´t lower the weapon, but lightning reflexes made her kick him on the abdomen, to propel him back. Behind her, one of the ship´s monsters slid about to try to surprise her, but she greeted it with three shots to its extremities, which crippled its head and arms. She was a professional like him...

When she made sure the monster didn´t move, she turned to him, and as weak as he was, he couldn´t repel her or prevent the ripping of the mask of his suit. Rising, she drew back the mask of her costume, her Amerindian features smiling smugly as she pointed the gun again at him. The climax of his misfortunes had just discovered him. The woman said sarcastically:

_--- Dawid Von Alper!..., or should i say Anton Yushchenko better?... ---_


	5. Demons, ghosts and angels

_**Dead Space**_ and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), _**Mirror´s Edge**_ and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.

* * *

**Chapter Four:**

**Demons, ghosts and angels**

_**One hour before the arrival of Isaac Clarke**_

_USG Ishimura Tram_

Rodrigo Cortez relaxed himself, resting against the cushioned chairs on the monorail. They had struggled a lot to return to the tram station after the necromorphs found them. Knowing that there was no effective safe place in the giant ship, they opted for disabling the security protocols of the train. A couple of crossed wires and a few lines of new code added to the program management computer, and the result was that the enormous metal brick didn´t stop moving along, completing a revolution around the ship´s track every eight minutes or so, unless given a specific manual instruction from the control panel. The creatures knew that the small band of refugees had taken refuge there, but approaching or climbing onto the moving meteor was not an easy task, so they were virtually safe while the transport kept in motion.

It was Sergei´s turn to rest, and the Slav had decided to sleep (not that the Latino didn´t need it, but compared to Ribbel and the soldier, he could stay up a little longer). He remained alert, as much as his tired body would allow, while pondering the developments of the last twenty four hours. The more he meditated, the more he told himself the unreality of the situation was almost off the scale.

First the events transpired on the colony. The discovery of the Marker, the collective insanity of the population, which led to a mass suicide (at this point he couldn´t repress a slight tear that was completely overlooked by his teammates). Next the shipping of the Marker to the ship and the subsequent confusion, agitation and distress of the population. And after that the horrible deaths of the crew and the deterioration of the spacecraft systems, especially at the hands of those things...

He cursed the Church of Unitology softly, clenching his fist with a force that threatened to penetrate the suit of armor and sore his hands. In his mind, the fragments of an old, distant conversation pierced his mind, opening a painful wound that the engineer didn´t want to recall. It was the second anniversary of the death of his parents. He was standing at their grave, on a cloudy day, perfect to go to a place so dismal as a cemetery in old Mexico City:

_--- How can you believe such nonsense? ---_ said, addressing his younger sister Vera, who stopped his rant, scolding him.

_--- Such nonsense, as you call it, is the faith Papa and Mama left us ---_ turning her small figure. In the distance, her P-Sec partner, Abraham Neumann, in a dark somber suit, had offered to bring her, and waited a few steps away, trying really hard to ignore the shouting match between the siblings.

_-__-- Does that mean we should join that cult of mindless drones who worship a striated, carved, sterile rock? ---_ He said, approaching a step towards her sister, her dark elegant gown billowing because of the light wind that was concurrent with the weather.

_--- Stop blaspheming!, The Marker is sacred, it marks our next evolutionary step! ---_ She said taking another step closer to him, her deep olive green eyes, inherited from her mother, blazing with fury.

_--- Marks our...?!, Vera oyete!, Do you not listen to yourself little sis?!, You´re starting to sound like one of those cult propaganda holovids! __---_ he said while waving his hands frantically. His suit became wrinkled from so much agitating his hands, but that was the last of his concerns. How dare she make such a suggestion?...

_Dig them up and keep them in the stasis tubes of the Church?_

_Ridiculous!_

_--- And you're a disrespectful little idiot who is unable to honor the memory of his parents, by preserving their legacy! ---_ She rebuked, raising her voice even more. By that point all the people who visited the nearby graves had become aware of its unique "chat".

_--- You know that's not true! __---_ A gleam of ferocity sparked in the eyes of the Latino. His little sister had that uncanny ability to get things out of proportion. To take him to the limit...

_--- Of course its not true... is it Rodrigo?, Didn´t you run away from home because it bothered you seeing us?, Because you couldn´t understand what we did and why we did it? ---_ She poked, distilling pure poison in her words.

_--- Shut up... --- _another step closer_._

_--- Because Papa tried to instill in you his love for the cult and you rejected it? ---_ She took a step further, her voice as sharp as a cutting edge.

_--- Shut up! __---_ He tensed his arm, made it stiff, ready to...

_--- Because you lead him to death! ---_ One last step, her challenging breath bathing his face...

_Shut up!!_

He found himself grabbing forcefully the control panel. The marks of his fingers on the panel were deep. Almost nothing could alter him, but remembering that specific episode made his fury flow unabated, to the point of least resistance, attracting unpleasant consequences. A sound coming from his suit told him he had an incoming message, making him slowly recover his composure. The sound also attracted the attention of Ribbel, who had been in the back, lost in her thoughts, and of Sergei, who woke up a little startled. The engineer configured the holovid output of his suit and proceeded to answer:

_  
--- Cortez?, Connors?, Yaskolev?, Does anyone hear me? ---_

The other passengers came close to the Latino, which enlarged the image as best he could and answered:

_--- Cortez here, what´s going on Mr. Clark? ---_ he said to the screen, where a man of very masculine features, though battered by the years, watched without blinking.

_--- We have a problem. I´ll be arriving in little over an hour, but still, if by any chance we all get to safety, we still don´t have enough rations to survive any longer than a week. I need you to look at the Population deck for food and water, all you can carry ---_ their three faces contorted in a shocked gesture, but only Ribbel decided to vent her emotions.

_--- Are you crazy Clarke?, If we go back there, those things will kill us! ---_ greatly exaggerating a gesture.

_--- We will die anyway Miss Connors, if we don´t carry enough food! --- _Clarke said snapping violently, and making the belligerent woman stop_ --- There´s no cryostasis chambers in this contraption, nor we have the luxury of a shockpoint drive. Please find a way for all of us to survive out there, or we won´t last enough for someone to rescue us --- _

All of their faces painted a mask of despair. Could things get worse?.

_--- The computer of the shuttle is estimating an hour and ten minutes to get to my initial point of departure. That was the landing pad of the colony, so we actually have less than an hour before I reach the gates of the Ishimura, I will contact you once i have the ship in sight --- _

_--- All right, keep us on the loop Mr. Clark, Cortez out ---_said the Mexican engineer.

There was nothing else to do and they knew it. Sergei checked the munition reserves. Five clips from the pulse rifle, four more batteries for the contact beam and twenty charges of the plasma cutter, as well as the cartridges inserted into their respective weapons. If they didn´t run out of ammo, they would have a chance...

_--- Why do I have the impression that this is something I´m not going to like? ---_ said Ribbel while Sergei handed her some spare ammunition.

_--- You heard the man, honey. It's either that or starving to death ---_ Rodrigo said as he packed his ammunition and checked the map of the gigantic spacecraft on his RIG, gesturing in the air as if imitating a mime. Both the Asian and the Slav couldn´t hide a half grin. If everyone had kept their composure like that when disaster struck, maybe more people would have been saved. Rodrigo clicked a few things in the control panel and the monorail began to decelerate...

_**Executive Shuttle en route to Aegis VII...**  
Fifty minutes to contact .. _

Isaac Clarke immediately cut the comm and retrieved the pulse rifle and the plasma cutter from where he had stored them. He looked at the vacuum while leaving the weapons in the passenger compartment, near the exit of the ship. He prepared the ammo he had, thinking he might not need it... but it was better to be a forewarned engineer. Rearranged the titanium bands of the suit and adjusted them back to his chest. The armor closed with a noticeable air sealing sound, indicating that everything was in order.

Hurrying as much as he could, checked once again the emergency medical systems, and the the communications and information´s, as well as the self-repairs, which started immediately to mend the micro-cracks in the titanium plates. He was almost ready. Got the helmet of his armor and said to himself he could get some rest, before returning to the accursed ship. But as he leaned a few minutes in the executive chairs, closing his eyes and waiting for the proximity alarm to blast, a voice pulled him out from his thoughts. A voice he knew he was not meant to hear again...

_--- Isaac... Isaac, it´s me... I wish I could talk to you... ---_

His pulse rose in seconds and a deadly chill ran down his back. He didn´t want to open his eyes, but forced himself to do so while thinking it was necessary for him to remain calmed. It could be just a glitch in the control computer (which had had the bad taste to repeat the most hated clip of his entire collection)...

The main screen of the spacecraft was playing THAT fateful video. Did the universe conspire to constantly remind him how miserable he was?... He advanced to the navigation room and turned off the screen, while the enormous and beautiful face of the woman he loved in life spoke of her despair. He sighed a moment, resting his hands in the back of the cushioned armchair of the cabin and then turned back to get to his previous resting place.

_And then he saw her..._

Almost before him, her features as beautiful as the video had showed him, her thin and sexy lips in front of him, almost touching him. An electric current ran through his body and he thrown himself back violently, upset with a syncopation that almost made him vomit blood. He fell heavily and fear forced him to retreat, his breathing as hard as if he'd run a full marathon. His heart beating like the drums of those festivals of the tribes still living in the UPEO Zone, with a wild frenzy that didn´t subside for a second even.

The woman who couldn´t be there, that he knew was dead, the illusion that the Marker of doom used to get itself carried to the colony, was there, upfront, smiling as if nothing had happened. The screens on the ship came on alive all at once, projecting a red static signal in which a series of bizarre hieroglyphics were embedded. It only made his hair stand on end, remaining stiff frozen. The image abruptly changed, displaying in all the monitors the face of Nicole...

_--- Isaac... ---_

Clarke put his hand to his heart, to try to calm down. But he couldn´t contain all the anxiety and horror of knowing that the nightmare was repeating itself. The horror took a step towards him and then another. He closed his eyes, forcing himself not to open them for fear of finding that the thing was real. His heart was about to burst open, but by the touch of a warm hand, something inside his told him, this time was not like previous others he had seen that ghost. Opened his eyes with a superhuman effort. Nicole was caressing his face. Everything about her was as he remembered, her pale and warm skin, her eyes sweet and understanding, her tender and seductive smile. He took her left hand and wrapped himself in the floral fragrance of the perfume he had given her as a present.

His pulse decreased and tears came down his cheeks. She helped him to stand up carefully and then looked into his eyes, feeling all the pain that her message had caused. And so she hugged him, losing herself in him the way one dwells on a daydream. Isaac didn´t know what to do or say, and only managed to return the embrace.

_If he turned out crazy, it was a very pleasant madness..._

They remained so for eternal minutes, until he decided to break the spell:

_--- Nicole ... Why?, how?, I... --- _

She didn´t let him finish and placing a finger on his lips, took him to the the passengers´ cabin. The uncontrollable desire for each other, or perhaps the strangeness of the situation, or probably both, made them give way out to their suppressed emotions. The bare, icy darkness around them, suddenly was not as frigid and desolate.

Once completed, sitting there alone and half-naked, in a ship in the depths of space, their talk began:

_--- I don´t know why Isaac, not why nor how it was, neither why was I chosen --- _She said playing with her blond hair, curling it as if it was the first time she touched it_ --- Well actually I do know why I was chosen. The Marker wanted to help you... and it knew that you would not trust it unless it assumed my form ---_

_--- But why Nicole?, what is the Marker?, what does it want from us? ---_

_--- I don´t know exactly... it's like a guardian... ---_

_--- A... guardian? ---_

_--- A guardian and a bridge at the same time. It enables two completely separate and different planes to interact with each other ---_

_--- Is that why you're here, after I saw you die? ---_

_--- Technically you saw a video where I looked like dying... --- _She smiled tenderly at the man, who returned the gesture warmly_ --- But I won´t lie to you Isaac... I'm here because the Marker has given me a last chance to be with you, to redeem myself and show you how much I love you, despite all the bad things that we have gone through ---_

_--- Does it mean this is all an illusion?, Are you not real at all? --- _

_--- Oh, no!... it's as real as you think it is... What we did was real Isaac! ... it´s only that my time here is waning. I was very lucky to have loved you, but I can´t be with you any longer. It is time for you to stop looking back --- _

Isaac forced himself to hold back the tears. Why it must be like that?, Couldn´t the Marker compensate something for the suffering he had gone through?.

_--- Isaac ...--- _she said as she placed her hand tenderly on his cheek_ --- I'm happy because I could tell you my sincere feelings, __but from now on you would do well in expect even more hard and rigorous ordeals ---_

_--- What do you mean? ---_

_--- The Marker and the necromorphs are only part of the truth, a truth so powerful that people in the Church of Unitology, The C.E.C. and the United Earth Government all, are bent to hide desperately. Something that can actually revolutionize the path of humanity --- _

Isaac stood still, dumbfounded. He decided not to push his luck however. Too many strange things had happened on this trip, and he needed time to think. But there was one thing still running through his mind:

_--- And why me?, why that god-forsaken piece of rock chose me? ---_

_--- I don´t know Isaac. __I would gladly tell you if I knew, but that knowledge is beyond me. __All I know is that you must return to Earth. Your presence will be very necessary to avoid the looming catastrophe ---_

_--- Nicole ... ---_ He said while embracing her strongly and kissing her again.

_--- It's time for met to leave Isaac. There´s almost __no energy left to maintain the connection between the planes. But you must always remember that despite everything, I have always loved you and I will do so, forever ---_ she said and stood up. Her silhouette began to fade slowly, in a reddish light that made all the instruments in the ship gone crazy. A huge chorus of voices, who accompanied her voice said:

_--- You have made us whole again Isaac... good luck --- _

And just like that, Nicole Brennan disappeared from his sight, not to be seen again by living beings. Isaac broke down in tears. He had not done it since he saw the first video of the woman he loved. Sobbed bitterly for what seemed like hours until the proximity alarm of the ship made him snap out of his suffering. Wiping his tears, ran half-naked up the cabin and looked to the horizon. There, stamped against the blackness of space, bigger and bigger by the second, was the silhouette of the Ishimura. He had a mission to conclude still, and, remembering that the appearance of his angel, the woman he had done everything for, including escaping from hell itself, had not been in vain, he set himself to it. He adjusted the military suit to his body as fast as he could. Synchronized his RIG to the ship´s computer in four keystrokes, and recalling once again the beautiful smile of his ex-fiancee, turned on the communicator...

_**Eight minutes before the arrival of Isaac Clarke**  
Population deck of the USG Ishimura _

Rodrigo finished putting the food in the backpacks they had found in some unknown room. The necromorphs were a pretty nasty bunch, but a few shots of Ribbel´s plasma cutter and some well placed charges of a still operative stasis module, they had found as well, had been incredibly helpful to repel them.

The last thirty minutes were devoted to loot and vandalize as many C.E.C. vending machines as they could find. They had rescued even, a bottle of that exotic drink that was announced everywhere as Peng. Upon seeing it, Sergei's face suddenly brightened, while Ribbel put on a grimace that could only be interpreted as severe displeasure. It was very obvious that the Asian didn´t think too highly of the way they advertised the product:

_--- All that escapist imagery makes me sick --- _

_--- Well if you do not want a taste, you can let me have your hand ---_ the Slav said with a smile of happiness that no one would have imagined before.

_--- If this is as good as you say Sergei, I know you may want to reserve it for the long journey home ---_ Rodrigo said gently packing the bottle in his bag.

_--- Right tovaryš... by the way, I can´t carry anymore in my backpack ---_

_--- O.K. we have provisions for more than two months. __And it´s almost time, Clarke should be contacting us soon ---_ said the tall woman. As if it were an order, Cortez´s communicator jumped to life.

_--- Isaac Clarke to Cortez and company, do you hear me? --- _

_--- Loud and clear Mr. Clarke --- said the Mexican._

_--- I am arriving at the main hangar in about four minutes. Hurry to the flight deck ---_

_  
--- Coming over there. ETA in eight minutes. Cortez out --- _

At that voice all of them grabbed their gear and started walking towards the main exit of the Population deck. Three corridors, four doors and an elevator and they would be in the Tram Station. They passed nearby that organic viscous mass that seemed to follow the necromorphs anywhere. It spread further and further into the corridors of the ship. A kind of biological vent spit a brown and sticky substance into the corridors. One of the text records that were found hidden in the body of a woman, put the doctors Hawley and Jägerwald from Chemical lab to analyze it, theorizing it could be a kind of "habitat changer" organism. Whatever the thing really was, it was really disturbing.

A door, a long corridor and then a right turn. They had come to the lift nearby the central dining room. Activated the elevator and got down to the main floor, moving towards the tram, without anything new to report, just the sound of his own footsteps filling the room. Even the occasional grunts of the creatures in the distance were too quiet to be true. They were about to board the transport, when Rodrigo heard a voice murmuring his name, calling him:

_--- Come here, Rodri .. --- _

No one called him that way anymore. Only his sister. And knowing his luck, it was quite sure that he would never see her again. But the whisper grew louder. He couldn´t ignore it, although apparently only he had realized about it. He looked out the corner of his eye, into the hallway lit by small candles, that led back to the main hall of the Population deck. There, at the limit of his vision, seemed to be a small and frail figure that beckoned to him. Stopped and turned to face her, but there was nothing. He ignored the whisper again and thought the atmosphere of the ship finally was getting on his nerves. But this time a loud and clear, if somewhat ethereal voice, called him. It sounded close. Too close...

A shiver came down his spine and made him immediately ignite the Contact Beam, causing the surprise of his teammates.

_--- Is something wrong Cortez?, Rodrigo... Rodrigo! ---_ Ribbel shouted as she saw him coming out of the tram with an attitude.

_--- Hey, what the heck... Rodia? ---_ Sergei said, taking his rifle and moving towards the door with Ribbel behind him, only to find a most unusual scene. Rodrigo Cortez chatting totally by himself:

_--- Vera! --- _He lowered the gun, without letting go completely.

_--- Hola hermanito... ---_ Her distinctive voice, halfway between mezzo-soprano and contralto, encouraging his spirit.

_--- No way... You are...! ---_ Let the contraption fall and slapped on the air.

_--- I love you too honey...---_ she said blowing a kiss, funnily.

_--- I'm going crazy! ---_ Put a hand to the helmet of the suit, raising his visor.

_--- Not entirely, but surely your friends think so ---_ She pointed behind him. There were his companions, with a look of profound surprise on their faces.

_--- Hey!, It´s my sister, Vera!, Let me introduce you... __Vera... __these are Ribbel Connors and Ser... ---_ Gesturing to her, pointing at an empty space.

_--- Are you okay Rodrigo? --- _the Asian held up his arm.

_--- What?, What did you say?, Of course I'm right?, My sister ... ---_ Said he, violently getting free of her grasp.

_--- Rodia friend... ---_ the Slav said grabbing his arm again _--- You urgently need to rest, the sooner the better... ---_ started to pull him back into the tram.

_--- Hey... hey!, don´t you be rude, my sister is... ---_

_--- Damn it Rodrigo!, what sister?, There´s no one here! ---_ the Asian woman said abruptly, shouting and waving her hands. If the necromorphs were hearing all the ruckus, surely they'd be over them in no time.

_--- But my... ---_ and turned to Vera to ask for her support. But only silence and emptiness confronted him. The outline of his little sister, merry green eyes and easy smile, was not where he had seen her last time. His mind refused to believe it and the more he tried to rationalize it, the less it made sense. Failed to reconcile reality and experience whatsoever. Upon seeing him so disheartened Ribbel took his arm, She and Sergei held his mutual friend and got him into the wagon.

_--- Hold on a little, odyn, in a few minutes we´ll be out of this nightmarish place ---_ said the blond starting the vehicle.

Rodrigo didn´t manage to say anything. Communications officer Jurgen had showed him the video data collected from the colony, about the mass suicide. He wasn´t able to talk to Abe Neumann (and was pretty sure he didn´t want to speak with him, after what happened that fateful day). He had received confirmation that her sister was among the corpses. But they could never show him the body. It disappeared in the ensuing chaos at the planet surface and they never found it out. It could´ve been a mistake... hell, it could have been a hoax!. P-Sec officials were not all well-liked by the colonists, and pretty often they became the target of their iniquities. What was to ensure that this time was not one of these?...

Something in the way the train moved took him out of his thoughts, something that should not have happened. He felt a slight wobble. So weak that only with the artificial extensions of his senses, thanks to the engineering suit, he could have noticed. He motioned for the others to shut up and got himself up, trying to pinpoint the movement more precisely. The alarm control panel indicated that they were about 400 meters left to get to the Flight deck...

Something pierced the metal above them and made them retreat to the walls. Ribbel let out a yelp that put them all in tension. A tentacle as thick as an arm came out slowly, attached to it´s distal end a bloody edge over a meter long, that would have easily punctured any of them, no matter how tough their armor had been. The car stopped almost immediately, faulty electrical systems ensuring this. They got out of balance, being projected to the front of the wagon, but the stopping wasn´t really that abrupt so they didn´t crash too hard. They were a mere hundred meters from the station. The exit gate was opened halfway, the tunnel wall preventing it´s normal operation. The opening might let a thin, not too tall person to exit through.

None made a noise or a move. Only their breath marked the passage of time. They heard footsteps on the roof. A new sound of metal breaking and another blade went into the room, nearly tearing Sergei´s head, who responded to the threat the only way he could, releasing a controlled burst of his pulse rifle to whatever was over them. A guttural howl of pain, mingled with human voices, froze their blood to ice. None of the creatures they had faced so far, sounded that horrific way. The military pointed again, using his suit´s cyber-assets to refine his aim, targeting the creature through the huge hole left by the blade. But when he had the prey in sights, he couldn´t shoot, the horror of the perceived creature paralyzing his mind. Cortez started the Contact Beam and shot up, blowing up the roof of the monorail.

Whatever was over them, was projected backwards, uttering another guttural sound, somewhere between a cry of pain and the rumble of thunder. They took that cue as a fall back order and focused on getting out. Ribbel introduced herself by the doorway gap, twisting her body in order not to get stuck. The Mexican jumped to the enormous hole on the ceiling, using the strenght of his arms to climb, rising as fast as he could. In the distance it came the sound of the horde of creatures that approached them, and even as they saw no trace of the monster that had attacked them, they knew they shouldn´t stop. They were not even remotely saved...

The woman stood guard, aiming at the dark tunnel and searching for any sign of movement around her, while Rodrigo helped his teammate to climb. The huge Ukrainian muttered a few curses in his native language and made a tremendous effort not to break the last few ribs he still had intact. When both men were above the roof, the tall woman shot up twice to the rearguard, while the hideous creatures of all kinds and forms were gaining ground. They went down the transport to the rail, a fall of nearly three levels, opening on both sides. They walked in a straight line, taking care to maintain the balance perfectly, knowing full well that failing to do so, would make them land in the service area of the tram, meaning they would have to battle their way out from the lower deck. And they couldn´t run too fast either, since the beam that made the track was rather narrow.

They were nearly fifty meters away, when they heard the guttural sounds of the creatures behind them. Sergei, who was in the back, stopped and raised his rifle to shoot against one of the creatures, which would have overtaken them in short time. But the necromophs overcrowded the tram-car, getting dangerously close. The slender Asian decided to try something, suddenly relying on a hunch. Focusing, she jumped from the beam to a chink in the wall to her left, large enough for her to fit in, and attract the attention of another group of monsters. She landed on, holding herself as strongly as she could, and got in without losing time. Then shot two charges of plasma, one targeting a creature that was getting dangerously close to the Ukrainian, and other for one of those monsters that looked like a deformed baby, unable to conceal her smile of unhealthy satisfaction. Rodrigo had already arrived to the platform and was preparing the Contact Beam.

She turned around and ran down a catwalk, that reached out towards the station´s platform, when one of those things jumped out from a nearby vent, one of those having two blades for arms. It fell a few meters away to pounce on against her. The woman didn´t stop, fear or some other instinctive reaction taking over her body. Jumped into the wall with her drive and ran over the surface to avoid the incoming onslaught. Completely turned her torso, dodging the monster´s bony knifes and applied a kick to the back of the creature, who lost its balance and precipitated to the chasm, crying a guttural growl that scratched the silence of the fall. Without losing her balance the slender woman landed, and then jumped using his momentum, towards the central beam, rolling to compensate for acceleration and keep running, her body getting closer and closer to the light of the station.

Sergei had already reached the edge of the platform as Cortez shot the beam, causing a small explosion behind them and breaking the rail where his pursuers stood. This caused however, the loss of balance of his two other teammates that still remained in the track. Both of them slipped, narrowly avoiding falling over the edge, the Slav losing the pulse rifle. The Latino dropped the gun, and hit the ground, holding the stocky boy and applying all his strength to avoid dropping him. Ribbel in turn adjusted the plasma cutter on the handles of his white suit while holding herself to the rail in one hand, its light weight allowing such a feat of strength. But the distance between the rail and the platform was still long, and the momentum she needed to climb was not enough. She struggled to stand, asking god for the boys to help her. Then a white flash step above her peers. A gloved hand grabbed her up, depositing her over the beam.

Before her stood a man wearing an advanced military outfit, bringing with it another plasma cutter, and pulse rifle on his back. It displayed the characteristic green light from the eye openings of the helm, and it made him look like a robot, inhuman and detached. But the man behind the suit said:

_  
--- I didn´t get late more than three hours to go home empty handed! --- _


	6. Nadir

_**Dead Space**_ and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), _**Mirror´s Edge**_ and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.

* * *

**Chapter Five:**

**Nadir**

_**Flight Deck Sub-levels**_

_USG Ishimura_

Four pairs of footsteps broke the silence of the hallways. Guttural and frantic groans filling the space with bloody cacophonies. Panting. Screams. Shooting. The endless sound of metal doors that opened, quitting abruptly, only to be opened again. A frantic race ending in an elevator door. Four hearts whose beats resounded frankly. Footprints. Scratches on the walls of metal panels. A sound warning that the lift had arrived. More steps. The heat of four bodies crowding each other. Then the sound of closing doors and a slight feeling of upwards movement. Suddenly the darkness...

_--- What happened? ---_ Ribbel Connors asked, unable to hide a tinge of anxiety in her voice. The feeling of being trapped in an enclosed space with her heart beating at full speed somehow wasn´t unknow to her. Suddenly an emergency light illuminated the lift, barely enough to banish the darkness.

_--- The elevator stopped. __Most likely the reception area is quarantined. If so we can not go that way ---_ Rodrigo Cortez said as he approached the control panel and began to dismantle it.

_--- No time for that. __It is better to try out for the vent and take one of the ducts up. We will leave by the maintenance hatches ---_ Isaac Clarke said, raising the visor of his suit as he pointed upward. The top hatch was opened, revealing a bit of the blackness of the elevator shaft.

_--- Let´s not waste anymore time. Divchyna Ribbel, you go first! ---_ Sergei Yaskolev said as he beckoned the woman to climb up. The three men drove the Asian to the vent and Connors noted there were no enemies in the tunnel. Rodrigo also received a grant to climb, being lighter, even with the armor, than his Ukrainian fellow.

Once the others climbed up, Sergei went to Clarke and quickly grabbed his arm, dealing a knee to his stomach and with the same momentum rolled him forward, pinning him to the floor with a knee on his back. Despite his broken ribs, all of the sambo throws and grabs that he practiced since childhood, were easily performed still. When Isaac wanted to react, Yaskolev already had his hands on the plasma cutter and fiercely leaned it toward his neck, right at the part where the armored suit was thinner. His pulse was trembling with excitement, but remained firmly seizing the man.

_--- Sergei, what the hell are you doing? __---_ Ribbel yelled from above, she and the Latino shocked by what had just happened.

The Slavic inched his face towards the fallen, his voice giving a trace of contempt and a tone of unusual ferocity:

_--- I remember you Clarke prokljattja!. You left me there, on that infested, fucking pileup to die! --- _

Isaac wanted to use all his strength to break free from the painful position in which the lunatic kept him up. But a key advantage of martial arts is  
that it combines well implemented specific twists designed to prevent the person on the receiving end from counterattacking effectively. The pain was almost bearable, but the engineer became more afraid of the tone of grief and despair that the military was using. It was the tone of people who were preparing themselves to kill. He had to do something to calm him down.

_--- I don´t know what you're talking about!, I´ve never seen you in my entire life! ---_ Said trying not to sound too sore.

_--- Do not mess with me! ---_ the Ukrainian told, squeezing his arm forcefully, and pressing the cutter harder to his neck _--- You are a bird of carrion!, you take everything you find useful!, My partner's armor, weapons, all her stuff__! __---_ Said, as he heavily settled his knee over the white armor, pinning him down with all of his weight -_-- But when you had the chance to save me from this hell...! ---_ twisted his arm more strongly.

Clarke couldn´t hide an expression of pain. But he was not about to let his mind be diverted from its purpose. He couldn´t remember finding anyone else inside the ship, except countless corpses, and of course the miserable face in the organ replacement facility on the Medical Deck, who was killed by one of those things. Recalled his journey at full speed, slicing through the memories, his mind frantically in search of something he had forgotten. Something he had forgotten. Something...

_Hell!..._

The flash came to his mind with painful accuracy. It wasn´t actual physical pain (even though he had already a ton of it), but disenchantment at remembering, that when we had a moment to assess the qualities of humanity that distinguished him from the creatures all around, he couldn´t lay hold of them.

Revived the scene. A soldier caught between the roof on one of the halls of USM Valor and an anomaly caused by a defective gravitational panel. Yes... he had seen him... had stopped to watch ... he said to himself that he was lucky not to be him... and see how life turns the tables. Said to himself at that time, he should spend a pulse rifle bullet to get that "poor bastard" out of his misery...

_Yet he didn´t have the guts to do it..._

And now that "poor bastard" was about to have his retribution, and all because of his lack of compassion. Probably was going to break his arm or cut his leg off, and leave him to rot in the ship, until he died prey to his own bleeding, or the necromorphs found him. Neither the Marker nor Nicole or anyone else for that matter, could save him. His moment of weakness was going to be his demise...

_--- You didn´t have the slightest compassion for me. You watched as if I was a freak and you thought I would die there alone. You thought my fate was sealed!, You thought I was going to die!, Miserable!, Now you will pay! --- _said the Slavic, his voice distorted by the effect of many emotions trying to surface all at once...

_--- Let him go Sergei! ---_ The voice of the Latino from the top of the elevator.

He heard a thud on the floor of the room and then a quiet whisper, softly standing for his cause. The pressure on his arm relaxed a second.

_--- Sergei ---_ Ribbel had climbed down and placed a hand on the shoulder of the soldier, her slender body contrasting with the more burly figure of the man _--- What Mr Clarke did was a mistake, an unforgivable one. But at the moment he is trying to make amends. He returned for us, returned to the ship when no one else could or would do so, to help us ---_ she had slipped her hand slowly down his arm _--- Trust me I understand. Surely I would feel as enraged as you, had I seen Rodrigo´s face peeking into the coffin they put me in, and then seeing him leave, abandoning me there, trapped. But he didn´t. He rescued me and we rescued you. Let Mr. Clarke correct his mistake. We gain nothing leaving him here, and we lose an ally to get to the ship if we do ---_ her hand leaning on the cutter, gently removing it from the anxious hand.

Sergei could not resist it. Didn´t really try to resist. In his mind the desire for revenge was almost as strong as his will to live. But the situation dictated that both feelings were incompatible. Slowly let go of Isaac, who regained his breath and rolled slowly to one side of the elevator, the pain in his body teasing him to no end. The Slavic strongly embraced Ribbel, and both slid to the ground, countless emotions causing their eyes fill with profuse tears.

Rodrigo also came down. He pressed a couple of panels in the bands of the advanced military suit and a dose of painkillers invaded the body of the veteran engineer. He helped him lean himself against a wall. Then he went to his friends, who still wept, and embraced them a moment, to offer his hand a moment later, not wanting to hide the tears on his face:

_--- Let´s get up boys and girls. We didn´t come here to remain stuck on an elevator. The last one to arrive at the ship calls beers on earth! ---_

Small chuckles filled the air.

Isaac watched silent, while letting the analgesic dose take effect. Musing about the circumstances of the three people in front of him. The only survivors of a calamity that destroyed more than one thousand souls. The primal impulse that kept them alive was the same he had developed to survive. But survival for them, was mixed with a feeling of trust. A trust which is not given lightly. Isaac asked himself whether in view of other events, these characters would keep their trust in each other. He couldn´t answer. He had never been a good judge of character, and the people he could refer to as examples, were nothing like them. But he found himself thinking that probably Captain Hammond would have gotten along just fine, and that thought was certainly worth more than any other speculation.

He abandoned his thoughts upon meeting Sergei before him, the visor of the armor up, extending his hand, his young features presenting a slight gesture of grief:

_--- Mr. Clarke ... __I beg for your forgiveness... I got... __carried away by my emotions ---_

Isaac immediately thought all he really wanted, was to shove the barrel of the plasma cutter up his ass and shoot a few charges. But he wouldn´t get anything with it. The computer's suit said that apart from the bruises and the main strain to his arm, there was no damage that would compromise his health. He looked suspiciously to the young man in front of him and then extended his hand:

_--- I understand. __Surely I would have done the same if I were you. Hopefully next time... --- _Grasped his hand tightly and forced a slight smile.

_--- Hopefully there won´t be a next time, Mr Clarke ---_ said the other with a smile from ear to ear that betrayed a certain amount of malice. Isaac didn´t like what he saw in the gesture, but there was little he could do about it.

All of them looked at each other and nodded slightly. Were about to climb again when something rattled violently the elevator. Turned their faces up to discover that two of the bladed necromophs were trying to cut the steel wire that held the lift. Without wasting any time Ribbel jumped to the vent again and took the plasma cutter to shoot. But the hand of Rodrigo quickly stopped her:

_--- You can´t shoot them with that. If you miss, you may cut the cable and save them all the work ---_

_--- Damn! ---_ she said, lowering the weapon.

_--- Try this ---_ Isaac Clarke said from below, raising the pulse rifle. Ribbel took it hurried, and pointed without taking into account the recoil of the gun. Her shots went off course and she hit the ground. Rodrigo took the rifle and aiming from the shoulder, fired several bursts, causing the creatures to stop and retreat:

_--- Ribbel pretty, would you and Mr Clarke please seek a way out of here?. __Sergei, you're our best shot with this thing, care to come up and give me a hand? ---_ While still honing their marksmanship.

In no time the four were already working. The Ukrainian took over with the rifle while Ribbel and Isaac found and loosened a vent. A couple of shots of the cutter and the rivets on the sides were fused, the heat from plasma raising the temperature of the tunnel. Rodrigo ignited the Contact Beam while his military partner sharpened his aim as much as possible. The soldier said to himself that the hours he spent in the shooting gallery with Straczynski had been worthwhile. Arms and other members of two of the monsters fell, spraying blood all around the tunnel.

To a cue of the Latino, everyone was behind him and he discharged his heavy weapon against the vent. The grid darted in and generated enough space so that all of them could pass through. But the vibration caused by the shot loosened the center line some more. Clarke pointed upwards, where the wire appeared to weaken, with a rather gloomy metallic crunch, all thanks to the excessive movement.

Ribbel wasted no time. Entered the pipeline as quickly as she could, keeping her weapon up front. Isaac followed, crawling as fast as his beaten body would allow him. When Rodrigo gave Sergei the cue to get in, a sound caught their attention. At the top of the elevator tunnel a rather big tentacle with a giant blade cut through the metal wall and lunged at the center line. If both partners could have seen their faces, concealed under the visors of their armor, they would probably have discouraged each other. Rodrigo pulled Sergei and almost threw him into the duct, the Ukrainian making no effort to oppose. A stroke of the blade and the central line was yielding. Sergei hastened to get through. A second blow and the lift was wobbling dangerously. Rodrigo went to the vent and leaned his body on the edge right at the moment in which the tentacle cut the rope and the elevator fell. The Latin threw his weapon into the duct and with his arms held his own weight, propelled by the inertia of the fall.

_--- Damn, why didn´t they put a gravitational panel for this thing?! ---_

Sergei rushed toward him, going to his rescue. Grabbing him by the arms, applied enough strength to lift his partner. Once he helped him climb up to the waist into the tunnel and secured him, the Mexican completed the task on its own. Both were drenched in sweat, but safe.

_--- Thanks comrade, almost didn´t live to tell ---_ the engineer stretched the Slav´s hand.

_--- You´re welcome tovaryš --- _commented the young man, responding to the greeting.

A female scream took them out of his musings. Both crawled through the duct rapidly, while gunfire and grunts were heard. Upon reaching the exit of the pipeline, found their comrades shoulder to shoulder falling back towards them. Up front, opened what looked like a warehouse or a debris dump with a central gateway. It was just dimly lit, but they clearly perceived that a horde of necromorphs were all around them. Both military and engineer hurried out of the ventilation tunnel while Isaac used his temporary stasis module to stop some of his opponents. Cortez used the TK module to grab a huge metal box that then propelled against another group.

_--- What a nice welcome!, to think you two were monopolizing the party! ---_ Sergei told them while shooting wildly at the enemy, with startling speed.

Rodrigo wielded the Contact Beam, while one of the monsters was approaching. He parried the deformed one´s blow with his weapon, making it strike sparks that flew in all directions along the body of the weapon. Clarke shot the attacker at close range by changing the orientation of the barrel of his gun. A narrow beam chopped off the attacker´s arm and part of the torso and the monster fell to the ground to rise no more. The others retreated, running under the relentless siege of Sergei´s marksmanship. They managed to escape through some chinks in the wall, but everyone knew they would return.

Isaac checked the map on his RIG while the others caught their breath. The Slavic handed Ribbel some loads of the plasma cutter. There were about ten shots, not counting the ammo into the gun, which added about seven more rounds. Rodrigo checked his own stash: Two batteries of the Contact Beam. Isaac´s rifle was about 70 loads. Worried Isaac handled his companions the ammunition he carried in a pocket of his suit. They wouldn´t be able to withstand a wave bigger than the last one, but luckily they were not far away from the landing area.

_--- There is a freight elevator that will take us sideways of the landing hall. We need only to give an order manually from the panel there... _--- They noticed the control in the farthest end of the central walkway ---_ ...and we will be lifted to the next room ---_

_--- Will this elevator work? --- _wondered Cortez, with a hint of doubt.

_--- You bet ---_ Isaac said without mentioning that this had been the room where he retrieved the Marker for his fateful trip to the colony.

_--- There´s a band delivery system. Here they stored it... I can bet on it ---_ Ribbel said thoughtfully, as she approached the railing of the aisle _--- the relic I mean ---_ was added when meeting the strange faces of her companions.

_--- It's true. __I saw it --- _said Isaac without being too enthusiastic, while still peering around. The little light that penetrated into the room through the blinds of ventilation was dim and he didn´t like at all.

_--- And where is it now? ---_ Sergei asked innocently.

_--- Probably destroyed, or under more than a million tonnes of ore and rock that fell right into the colony ---_ the engineer strapped his gun to the suit and returned to review his notes as if looking for something.

_--- Didn´t they embarked it on the ship? ---_ Asked Cortez, proposing what seemed like a silly question at that point. Isaac however knew that it wasn´t. The American sighed:

_--- It's a long story. But it´s worth saying that we had hoped to neutralize our "friends"... --- _and kicked lightly one of the corpses of the monsters_ --- by bringing the Marker to the colony, to appease the Hive Mind ---_

_--- The... what? --- _asked all of the others almost unison.

_--- Another long story. __We better go. I´ll tell you about the whole mess__ on the way home. __But first we need a transport platform ---_ said and using the TK module, attracted a platform from the cargo container deposit, up to the rails.

When the narrow platform came near, all of them rushed to climb. But Isaac stopped them:

_--- Someone has to activate the elevator ---_ said pointing to the panel _--- It can´t be controlled remotely through the RIG, if that was the case, I could´ve avoided countless bad moments before ---_

They all looked confused.

There were about twenty five meters between the panel and the elevator. And none of the boys were in in physical conditions to run that distance, especially carrying armor, weapons and ammunition. Ribbel rolled her eyes and climbed down from the platform:

_--- All right dammit!, I know no one is going to ask for it, so we can better save the arguing --- _she mentioned while removing her backpack of supplies_ --- I cant´believe you men... ---_

_--- What? ---_ Cortez said as he reached for her arm.

_--- Let go off me Rodrigo, somebody has to turn on this thing and run to the elevator. None of you can run with that crap all over, so... ---_

_--- Don´t be dramatic Miss Connors, there are clever ways to do this ---_ said Isaac as he descended from the platform and pushed her on reluctantly.

_--- And what is your big idea?, because the elevator can not wait that long --- s_he shouted as the American gestured Rodrigo and Sergei to board as well. Then he walked slowly to the panel_ --- Damn it Clarke, answer me! ---_

_--- Ready on my mark, Three, two, one... mark ---_

Isaac activated the control panel and the elevator broke the inertia, accelerating to move. The engineer raised his arm and threw a small blue energy sphere, impacting the platform at the feet of his companions. The sense of time delay that was caused by the stasis module was not infinite, but it was strong enough to make them feel as if everything around them had increased his speed twice or thrice. A bluish tint bathed everything and made them see reality as if viewed through the scope of a holographic display.

The American ran as fast as he could. He had covered ten meters when he stopped and threw another sphere of stasis to the elevator. He continued running and was about to reach out when, from the depression extending beyond the railway of the dump, came a giant tentacle, thick as a human being, similar to those that bothered him while he was exploring the ship. Isaac stopped and shot three times, aiming for a sensitive area of the abortion, a bright-yellow pustule in the middle of the body. But it was too close and the impacts didn´t hit the target. It then tried to crush the human, but the engineer rolled forward dodging the furious scourge, the faces of his teammates barely registering surprise.

Covered the last five meters with lightning speed, barely stopping. The platform, however, was already rising over a meter tall, and the effect of partial stasis was about to disappear. There was only one choice left. While covering the last half meter, he jumped to the edge of the elevator. The tentacle lunged at him, but the expert marksmanship of Sergei stopped it by embedding three bursts of bullets in its weak spot, making it explode and disperse his remains all over the room. The effect of paralysis had passed, and the elevator went up normally. Both Cortez and Connors pulled the American to the floor of the platform.

_--- Next time try not to play hero, Clarke --- _said the woman painting her face with a gesture of disgust.

_--- I certainly will remember, Miss Connors ---_

A few minutes later they reached the landing pad secondary chamber. A metal curtain whose switch was in one corner of the room, was the only obstacle between them and the shuttle. They loaded their remaining ammo into their weapons, secured their backpacks and prepared as best they could for what could be waiting for them behind that barrier. At a cue from Clarke, Ribbel pressed the control. The curtain slowly opened, letting in the light of the landing zone.

_But beyond that, nothing else was waiting... _

The silhouettes of four people pointing to an empty room were outlined on the floor. Nothing, not a movement, not a welcome committee, only space and stars above their heads, separated from the inner side by the bulk polymer plastic that served as a skylight. No one wasted time saying something futile. By contrast, Isaac pointed towards the higher level and saw the passenger shuttle, waiting.

They entered the giant hangar, a room of over 50 meters with two walls of reinforced steel, which ended in boarding bridges. Each one was designed to accommodate up to three small sub-transport ships or a medium cargo storage shuttle. There, on the nearest wall, was their transport. Alongside the catwalk was a series of cranes, boxes and containers, that were used in conjunction with the gravity control panel to load or unload the supplies sent to the ship. At the starboard end of the room, stood a wall finished in another catwalk, which led to the registration area and the manual operations room. At the southern end were the exit gates leading to the runway of the ship.

They ran into the emergency staircase at the north end. Then up from there to the boarding bridge, and then to home. As they climbed, none could stop laughing and joking. Their salvation was only a hundred steps away. Almost within arm's reach. Regardless of the environment all around, the four friends arrived at the boarding gate. Rodrigo and Ribbel went straight to the passenger´s chairs, while Sergei manually operated the boarding gate. Isaac entered the cabin issuing a series of quick commands that started the engines. Everything was perfect... they were leaving the Temple of Doom... finally they were free of the nightmare...

_How wrong they were! ... _

A violent shaking and a thud on the roof was all it took to break their bubble of false security. Isaac muttered a few curses that they couldn´t understand and then something broke the forward window, firing all the safety alarms for the small craft. Ribbel ran into the cabin, to find Isaac lying on the floor, his shoulder impaled by a tentacle ending in a blade just over a meter long. Shuttle systems became burdened by the excessive weight taxing them, as well as the damage done to the systems. The Asian woman got her plasma cutter and fired a charge, to free her companion. She Just didn´t hear the desperate cry of Rodrigo Cortez:

_--- Nooo! --- _

The superheated plasma shot melted through the blade like a knife on butter, but it didn´t stop there. It also penetrated and breached the hull of the ship, damaging the gravitational system as well. Emergency systems flickered a moment and then went out, making the shuttle fall to the floor of the hangar, in a whirlwind of frantic shaking and shouting that enveloped all of them as if it were the legendary maelstrom of fjords of the North Sea, determined to leave nothing alive above the face of the waters. Then there was an explosion...

_Silence... Cortez´ frantic yells... Yaskolev shooting... the sound of the flames consuming the ship... A couple of slaps on her face and then the light... _

Ribbel opened her eyes. The smoke made it difficult to breathe correctly. She looked to her right and found Isaac, whose costume had applied a coagulant foam blanket all over his wound. This man was pulling her out from the wreckage. She didn´t feel any pain, nor she felt any numbness in her body. There was only a slight tingling in her head, which revealed itself as a slight cut. She was unscathed, in spite of all the chaos. But trouble didn´t end there.

She got on her feet as soon as she could, to account for the situation. Sergei was reloading his gun with the last cartridge, while Rodrigo paralyzed a necromorph group who rushed over to them like vultures to carrion. The woman took her hand to her side, looking for her weapon, without finding it. Clarke handed her his own plasma cutter:

_--- I have more ammo inside, cover me --- _

Without any further explanation, the engineer descended between the scraps of the ship.  
Ribbel fired twice towards the group of necromorphs that the Mexican had paralyzed. A small reddish creature with long tentacles tried to sneak on her, but she caught it, capturing it on the fly and crushing it with a blow of the cutter, his red-tinted matter spreading on the floor of the hangar, with a shrill cry.

_It was then that her teammates pointed to her back... _

There, standing on the wreckage, was the most grotesque and hideous creature they had seen so far. Six meters of a three-headed vision of horror, a demon with powerful hindquarters and strong front legs, ferocious tusks capable of shredding a person with a single bite and a kind of skin covering it, something she was not sure if it was dirt over its coat or lots of rotting flesh. It was a mortally deformed mockery of the Cerberus from Greek mythology. The resemblance ended there however, for in its torso were accumulated the bloody corpses of several members of the crew, standing on the back of the creature as though they had been assimilated into the horrendous form. Capping the terrible vision, two long tentacles, thick as an arm, which eventually ended in separate bony blades, one of which was abruptly severed. The creature looked at her closely and it took two steps toward issuing a slight grunt, half-feral, half-human. The Asian raised her gun and fired a couple of shots to the monster before her.

Whatever it was, quickness was a part of its characteristics, as it came out of the way of both shots with a big jump. Landed a few meters away from Yaskolev and Cortez. Both fired upon it without concessions. The pulse gun shots landed into its skin without making it flinch even. The Contact Beam shot however, threw it back, prompting a thunderous howl of rage that seemed more a like a distorted battle cry. On that cue, several necromorphs were summoned, leaving their vents and crevices. The men slowly retreated, only to hear growls on their backs. Sergei turned around and shot against them, his aim enhanced greatly by the fighting programs on his armor. But almost immediately he was pushed and fell, a wicked paw compressing him on the floor. The giant creature stood above him, having launched Rodrigo several meters away and now leaned his weight on the body of the young Slavic. Its face came close to him and prepared the blade that it still had intact, while the military clenched his teeth to keep himself from howling with pain.

One shot severed the tentacle, causing the rotten creature to withdraw, and making it utter a shriek that seemed like the expression of pain from multiple persons. It looked back, searching for the source of the attack, and found Ribbel with the plasma cutter pointed in its direction:

_--- Come get me! ---_ She said defiantly and ran towards the end of the hangar.

The wicked creature forgot the young man and gave chase. Meanwhile Rodrigo was already up and running, coming fast to where Sergei was. Charged the Contact Beam and shot the nearest enemy group, blowing them up. They had another group of creatures already over them from behind, but a wide plasma beam dismembered them mercilessly. Both turned to find Isaac using a Line gun to decimate his enemies. One of those baby-like creatures, which they would eventually call "Lurkers", approached him, trying to take him by surprise:

_--- Not a chance ---_ said the engineer and stomped over it with his heavy boots, then finished it with a kick that literally sent it to fly very far.

Meanwhile Ribbel couldn´t stop running. The creature was gaining ground, as she was approaching the outer wall. She ventured to look back and didn´t see her attacker. Flipped the view to the front, almost running into him. The gigantic animal lashed at her, throwing the remaining tentacled blade, but she was alert enough and jumped to the front, giving a somersault and landing on top of him. As she descended, the naked and cruelly lacerated bodies embedded in the creature, came to life trying to grab her with their still intact arms, their mouths uttering guttural moans and groans. She reacted instinctively and put a couple of shots into the bodies, causing the creature to shake violently and throwing her away. Her landing was not very pleasant.

Isaac and the others were still battling the monsters, when they saw the forced landing of their partner. Tried to run over there to help her, but one of those things that carried an explosive pustule on its arm came up, blocking their way and raising its limb to blow them to pieces. Isaac protected himself as much as he could, but the explosion didn´t come. On the ground, there was the corpse of the thing with its members dissected by several bullets and on the air, suspended over them by telekinesis, the volatile sac, courtesy of Rodrigo Cortez:

_--- An explosive charge ready to use!, just tell me where you want it boss... ---_ with a smile of malice on his face.

The American quickly spotted a group of "Infectors" and other "cuties", that blocked their way and quickly pointed in their direction. Rodrigo made a gesture of his hand and propelled the improvised explosive towards them, hitting the ground right in the middle of the group, blowing them all. They ran to her friend in the distance, when a panel of the wall of the hangar became disemboweled and thrown out at them. The three men thrown themselves out of the way and looked up to see a monster half as big as the one that haunted the woman, a kind of scaly black and blue armor covering its body. The Brute ran towards them, its heavy body pounding the metal boards of the hangar. A sigh came out of their mouths almost unison. Cortez shook his head while Sergei muttered some curses in his mother-tongue. Isaac raised his hand to deliver a load of stasis, but the blinking indicator of his suit informed him that the internal battery had no power left. Rodrigo went ahead trying too, but got the same response from his armor. Both engineers took a couple of steps back and turned to run.

Sergei had seen the creature advancing towards them and, seizing the Line gun from the hands of Isaac, remained undeterred by the powerful avalanche that was coming to get them.

_--- Stay away Sergei, your shots won´t work with that thing ---_ Isaac shouted as he and the Latino put some distance in between.

The young Slav ignored the warning, realizing he had seen something that couldn´t be. He had no time to verify it however. Fired several shots at the creature, getting to crack the powerful armor. When that thing was five meters away, he almost had a fit, confirming what he had seen: The pale image of his dead companion Straczynski making him a gesture of approval as she ran alongside the creature. The military raised his hand and a blue sphere of stasis impacted on the gross body, slowing down its movement. Then he jumped and located the rupture between the scales of its armor. Fine-tuned his shots and fired two cutting-laser mines. Those were some of the applications available for that strange tool that everyone in the Valor came to study, in the case of an eventual confrontation. Both shots flew true, into the crack of the armor. Once he landed he threw himself away to avoid staying to close to the area of effect.

The effect of the stasis charge ended by the time the two mines exploded. What followed was a bloody mess, when the cutting beams that were spat out of the mines in a small explosion, reduced the armored body to thin slices of raw meat. Sergei got up, left the line gun lying on the floor and got a hand to his ribs, trying to diminish the pain he felt. Yet he was smiling with satisfaction, staring to an indefinite point next to him.

While her teammates fell back, Ribbel arose. She had been violently projected into one of the central walls of the room dropping her gun and losing consciousness for a few seconds. The monster had uttered a howl of pain and retreated. But as its prey got up, a look of hatred kindled in the hideous face. The emaciated bodies that adorned its back, clawed and nailed its skin, blending themselves with the rest of the body. Suddenly, some of them were split in two as if being cut by a sword, their entrails spreading to the sides and forming new tentacles and blades. One more body became swollen and deformed, and then thickened, dislocating his jaw and widening his face until it was almost a quarter of the total length of the wicked offspring. The result was a towering beast, twice as hideous as before.

The woman reacted when the thing cried another roar, and raised its back, which shot out a kind of round capsule, yellow-greenish with veins along its circumference. Ribbel ducked, avoiding the bullet, but being projected towards the front when it exploded a few meters at her back, falling almost at the foot of the monster. One furious bite rushed at her, but the Asian rolled onto her side, and pushing with her arms, gave a backwards somersault, avoiding the attack. The adrenaline was running all over her body, and some movements she thought impossible, she was performing them easily.

The behemoth lunged forward onto her, its giant body trying to crush her against the center wall. She reacted immediately and ran towards the wall, jumping and taking three steps on it, then jumping again, just as the thing passed beneath. The hit against the steel panels stunned the giant enough time for the slender female to have a head start, striding to where the plasma cutter was lying. Came in a few steps near the tool, lowered her body and picked it up without losing momentum, accelerating more and more as she secured it to a strap of her dress, and then ran in the direction of a fixed crane, positioned near the central walls.

Jumped over the nearby crates and immediately heard, horrified, the unnerving sound of crushed metal, a sign that her pursuer was back in action again. If she could reach the upper walkway, she would have best angle to open fire. Jumped over one of the containers and building momentum, jumped again, holding herself from one of the bars of the crane. Her enemy was beneath and it arched its back to shoot another one of those damned projectiles.

Drawing experience from her acrobatic training, Ribbel impulsed herself to gain momentum, and then jumped to the catwalk, letting her go at the point of maximum lift. Both the flight and the pirouette she made, were enough to make her reach the top rail from which she clung tooth and nail. She expected a new explosion but this one didn´t come. Turned her sight and found the explosive sustained in the air, an imprisoning ray coming out of Isaac´s suit. Rodrigo shot his forgotten Contact Beam immediately and it made the creature lunge back, dodging the attack. But it didn´t expect the American to launch the seized explosive at it at the precise moment of landing, hitting it squarely and significantly wounding it. Ribbel took the chance to climb up and then fired her weapon as well, severing another tentacle. Falling back hard-pressed and looking outnumbered and outgunned, the creature ran off and penetrated through the curtain of the same room they had used to reach the hangar, disappearing into the darkness.

The hangar became silent. None of the creatures who threatened them was standing still, but only to get even, Rodrigo crushed the skull of one of them, scattering the contents. Approaching over to Sergei, he said:

_--- How come you did that? ---_ Visibly elated.

_--- What exactly tovaryš? ---_ the Slav asked as he extended his arm, delivering the line gun to Isaac.

_--- Uh, uh, uh, you know... That! __---_ Rodrigo told him doing a pretty bad pantomime of the acrobatics he had done a few minutes ago.

_--- Oh, that!... with the stasis module built into my outfit ---_ the young blond replied, panting and breathing raggedly.

_--- The stasis... damn, you could´ve used it before!, don´t you think? __--- _replied the Latino waving his arms frantically.

_--- Surely I would tovaryš. __But I had completely forgot... ---_ said the rogue military and smiled.

Isaac´s disguised giggle became a very noticeable laugh.

A loud thud put them on alert. They looked the plasma cutter lying on the ground, and Ribbel hurtling over the railing of the central walkway. At that very moment everything went paralyzed. No one lifted a finger, their instincts completely numbed by the shock of what they saw. She fell into the hard metal floor of the hangar, her body bouncing a little, then remaining inert. They thought they distinguished the silhouette of a man leaning over her, but it was only an illusion experienced a brief moment.

They ran as fast as they could. As they were nearby, Ribbel raised her hand, looking at an indefinite point of the ceiling, her lips pronouncing a name softly:

_--- Mercury... --- _

_The laughter was gone. All the high of adrenaline vanished instantly, and turning to see the bleak picture of the broken shuttle, their only escape route destroyed, and her friend fallen into unconsciousness, the men felt their souls going straight down to hell itself. They had reached the nadir._


	7. In the dark

_**Dead Space**_ and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), _**Mirror´s Edge**_ and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.

* * *

**Chapter Six:  
In the dark**

_**Central mainframe USG Ishimura**__  
Four hours before Ribbel´s message_

The pain hadn´t disappeared completely, but after a dose of antibiotics and painkillers supplied by Kendra Daniels, his body was rapidly improving. The acre smell of burnt cables and semiconductors mercilessly attacked his nose. The poor illumination of the room would not let him see much, but could grasp enough of it to know he was at the nerve center of the ship. He was still feeling that form of fatigue coming over him since the disaster began. Reminded himself that he should be as crazy as the rest of the crew, but the cognitive stimulants he had taken to help him in his mission were doing an exceptional, although unexpected job, protecting him from the raging dementia affecting the whole ship.

His sanity however, was a small stipend given his lousy bargaining position. The descendant of American Indians had caught him in his own suit, introducing a sub-routine in the programming of its RIG to lock the joints of his armor. The result was that Anton Yushchenko was motionless as if he were caught in a solidified layer of Concrete V, watching things go by, while sitting in a chair.

The woman watched a holographic panel, while altering the program commands of the ship. Had the Resident A.I. not been half-restricted, it would never have allowed such an intrusion. But having been partially deprived from control, as a result of the efforts of Dr. Kyne to launch the spacecraft adrift, there was no way to reactivate it without sweating blood trying to decipher the level five password established by him. True, the woman had the executive codes of the ship, but Dr. Kyne was no fool, and trying to break the code he modified to to keep the crew out of the game, was not exactly an easy task. As a result Kendra could access only some of the several major systems of the spacecraft, the ones with little or no protection at all, a knowledge she used diligently to support his partner, one Isaac Clarke.

Yushchenko knew he was living on borrowed time. He didn´t expect the EDF would send a loyal agent, mixed in the C.E.C. fast-response team. That spoke enormities of the level of infiltration and intelligence-gathering that the government could achieve in organizations of the caliber of Concordance.

_Much less expected, was the fact they would send in the sister of the man who he murdered, over two months ago on Mars..._

She didn´t pay too much attention on him. Since she knocked and dragged him off to the central mainframe room, she hadn´t adressed him too many times. He could see the venomous glare in her eyes, a byproduct of the strong feeling of revenge that disturbed her, but at times she seemed as if lost in a daydream as well. Her mind seemed absent, and it made him wonder if the crisis around her had made her lost it. He pretended not to notice his surroundings when he saw her become pale and upset while staring at the monitor. He could see when her nerves were twitching and then she began to type furiously on her personal tablet. The relevant question was the extent of her apparent madness, and how much of it could be exploited in his favor...

He decided to ignore those thoughts, seeing how the girl seemed determined to ignore him. His body was growing cold and he had that familiar feeling of numbness that recalled to him the early years of his life. Through his mind passed the horrors of surviving in the slums of Moskva, in the Russian-European Militarized Zone. The terrible days of his childhood, when being caught stealing was punished by being strip-naked, dipped in the icy Volga, tagged electronically and left to chance, with a ban for people to help the offender. Few dared to steal so openly, and those who relapsed were arrested, without civil rights or privileges. Many of them disappeared without trace...

The C.E.C. found him when he was about to be submerged in the frozen river. He had caught a severe pneumonia due to the always "benevolent" climate of Moskva, and a little dip in the river would have meant death for him. But the Alpha official that interceded for him put out a card to his fellow soldier and he walked away without looking back.

Concordance facilities in the Russian-European Militarized Zone were decidedly more comfortable than the crumbling homes still left standing on the banks of the Volga. Strangely enough, he missed the adrenaline of running from the "Полиция" (police), and most of all, missed Oleg and Natasha, the other two orphans who were like him, victims of conflict between Ukraine and Russia, his friends and partners in crime. But as time step, they were gradually forgotten, as he immersed himself in this new life. People in the company taught him to read and write, to think and argue, gave him skills that were forbidden to the poor and homeless, as it has always happened throughout world history.

At the same time came the workouts, that did little for him after several years of taking care of himself in the streets of the former Russian capital, they just fine-tuned his already developed instincts. The fun part of it was the weapons training, however it wasn´t so nice instead to learn to kill, as he noted when his instructors asked him to shoot, first a defenseless puppy. After that a horse Then a monkey. Finally a beggar. The four tests occurred in a narrow margin of hours and the face of the sorry bastard he had sent to hell with his pulse gun, terrified him during subsequent years. He came to his senses as he heard her whisper something like:

_--- I don´t know ... Kyne is crazy ... that shuttle... keep... our side ... for now... --- _

To then turn around, ready to pounce on him like a venomous snake, ready to kill:

_--- Wake up miserable, it is time for you to respond to justice for what you did --- _

The semi-hysterical voice of the communications specialist brought him back completely. She had finished speaking with his partner and made a few corrections on the computer, decoding some discs. Now turned towards him, gun in hand, as the supreme judge and executioner, waiting to execute her heinous custom. Yet he knew enough about the intelligence on Kendra to guess whatever she was planning wouldn´t have any effect on him...

_--- No time for nonsense Yushchenko, tell me what your mission is and I'll put a bullet big enough in your brain so that those things don´t revive you... ---_ Said, pointing to a screen, where several of the necromorphs roamed the halls of the engineering deck.

_--- And why should I make things easier for you, Miss Daniels? ---_ The woman's voice sounded upset, but the control that she had it subjected to, was tight. Perhaps he could take extra advantage of this situation, but tested a bit more the mental status of the girl, just to be sure.

-_--- Do not play with my patience you miserable murderer!, If you´re still alive is because I believe that you value your skin more than any mission the leaders of this mega-corporation of yours had bestowed upon you! --- _Said the woman visibly losing her composure.

_--- Miss Daniels ... Kendra ... __Can I call you that?... you know that in my, correction, our line of work, things are not personal... I didn´t want to kill your brother, but there couldn´t be another outcome. Its all part of the job, and on your face I can see that you understand it that way. A professional does what he must do... --- _Said the Russian trying not to sound too abrupt, adding even a slight inflection that could be interpreted as a sign of flattery.

_--- Do not try to compare me with you!... damn murderer! ---_ And saying that, she gave him a blow with the butt of the gun, which echoed throughout the room and left his head aching and his ears ringing. Despite the improved protection of the helmet, he was quite sure he would remember it later...

_--- I read reports about both of you ... __when they sent your brother to pry into the affairs of the C.E.C. __Both military officials of career... __you of the intelligence branch of the EDF and your brother a brilliant and prominent Special Forces member. The fact that you´re having this outburst means that you´re losing control... and that doesn´t speak well of your training ---_

She was about to let go another blow again, but stopped to think a moment. She inhaled deeply and turned to watch the monitor. Steadied her mind for a couple of seconds. She gained nothing reducing his opponent to mush, no matter how much she would be satisfied with it. Nor was she surprised in the least that Yushchenko knew about both of them. With the economic and political resources of the third largest corporation in the inhabited planets and their unproven affiliation with the Church of Unitology, it was only expected that any branch of government would go through highly frustrating moments, trying to dig up the illegal business of the company.

She had also done a bit of "her homework" regarding Concordance. She knew of the various military operations of the Alpha Unit in several countries. The most recent took place in the American Free Zone. The incursions of rebel groups from the various scheming regions of the Union of Socialist Asian Countries (USAC), had reached such a degree that the conflicts in the region formerly known as Alaska (now Protectorate Innuit), became common. The interests of the C.E.C. were threatened by the presence of Chinese and Japanese rivals, while the United Earth Government promulgated a law to keep commercial vendettas at bay.

USAC representatives had obeyed without question, accepting the provisions that prevented them from competing unfairly, but several paramilitary groups supported by them decided to remain active on their own, to the point of taking several key facilities of the C.E.C. in the country, including a secret facility on the border with Canada, whose defenders repelled the attack and remained under siege for a full day.

If this was part of a surreptitious move to challenge the power of the UEG, or undermine the scope of Concordance by the Asians, they were very careful to say it openly. The higher-ups decided it was time to send the Alpha Unit.

The answer to the challenge posed by the rebel groups was brutal. In about five hours, fifteen paramilitary squads isolated the attackers and regained control of the facilities without giving or asking for mercy. The corporation shown it had no scruples of any kind when it came to achieving its goals. A contingent of the EDF, who disliked the violent resolutions, moved on to end hostilities and to serve as mediator between the opposing groups. Kendra Daniels was in that group, serving as an intelligence officer deployed on field.

_By the time they reached the battle area, the bloodbath was over. The C.E.C. had "solved" the problem... _

The research pointed to a slaughter. But the regulations set by the government to defend the assets of the transnationals, gave almost complete carte blanche to the company CEOs. Concordance lawyers cunningly took advantage of the favorable legal framework to present the "actual" resolution of the matter as the only possible way. Presenting evidence of an alleged "negotiation" between the two hostile parties, and information that made it appear the the Asians had set up the mediators of the C.E.C, they presented the battle as a legitimate defense and the C.E.C. evaded the charges of subversion, mass murder and maintenance of paramilitary groups. While they had to pay a large sum in damages to the beneficiaries of those involved, the reality was that, given the amount of resources invested in that particular area, the company had safeguarded its interests in an excellent way, and had also had given a sound warning to its rivals. One that would not soon be forgotten...

_--- Given your position and your little cooperation "Mr. Yushchenko", I´m forced to use more effective resources ---_ the woman said mischievously at him and quickly passing from the tone of anger at the condescension. That was not a good sign.

_--- Do not try to frighten me, Miss Daniels. You can do nothing, nothing against myself ---_ said the Russian outlining his best grin.

_--- In normal conditions that may be true. But how tough you would believe yourself when you have a small cocktail of benzodiazepines over you? ---_ She said giving him a wink.

The face of the Russian revealed a slight flicker. He certainly wasn´t prepared for a chemical assault. He knew perfectly well that the information obtained by psychoactive means was unreliable, but the woman before him was willing to tempt her fate. Furthermore, there was no way to know how those substances would react with the facial modifier and the cognitive stimulators still lurking in his body. Death could be the most beneficial of all reactions. If what the rumors said about the RCFG was true, under the action of certain drugs, it could cause irreversible damage to the psyche of the person in question. Who knew exactly what could happen. He could become a vegetable, not dead but not really alive, or remain trapped in some psychosis forever...

_Neither of these options were pleasant prospects... _

Kendra moved away from him and ran to the desk where a dim light revealed some sort of leather bag, which she opened, revealing a hypodermic syringe and various substances. Without turning towards him, she began to talk:

_--- You´ll see Mr. Yushchenko, I brought this with me, in case I found resistance from some of the many crew members. On several occasions I've noticed that it's easier to sneak than to take by force. If you can´t be convinced by the good old-fashioned way, you can always be induced by suggestion ---_ Ended as she filled a hypodermic syringe and let out a small jet of the substance, bleeding air out of the recipient.

_--- Well, well... we shouldn´t rush ourselves Miss Daniels. I think we started this with the left foot. If anything ask again...---_ the Russian almost whispered this phrase.

_--- There is no need of that Mr Yushchenko. When the dose... --- _the girl pushed a pair of plates on the arm of his suit, letting out the intravenous injection port, a tube about 5 mm wide, connected at one end to the internal mechanisms of the armor, done as part of the resources of emergency medical treatment for the engineers. Injected the substance of the syringe into him ---_ ...effect on you is done, you will tell me exactly what I want to know ---_

He wanted to move and escape. Get up and hit her until she became a bloody pulp. That damned woman could inadvertently turn him into a vegetable!. The adrenaline started running through his blood, and its levels shot up when he received the air jab of the device. He had little less than twenty minutes until the substance took effect. And after that, God only knew how much longer...

Kendra looked at him, her brown eyes an expression of arrogance and malice that could not be measured. Every second that passed he felt more and more the incessant need to get his hands on the neck of the Amerindian. His imagination took over, giving vent to his innermost desire. He could almost feel his muscles pressure-popping the hinge plates that held his cloths together, through the action of adrenaline. His hands making contact with her delicate neck, like claws of a predator sinking into the flesh of his enemy. His powerful arms applying pressure on the fragile structure that was her larynx. Feeling that helpless woman trying to repel him with her weak hands, only to fail miserably to open the steel tongs hanging over her. His claws squeezing more and more, blocking the flow of oxygen to her lungs, into her blood, to her brain. The orbits of her eyes starting to wander slowly. His opponent's legs furiously pounding his body as she let out muffled cries, which were gradually losing strength. The pain mixed with the rage of feeling dead alive, trying to steal the little enthusiasm that remained of that scarecrow of a woman who was open before him. Feeling like the last gasps gradually were becoming less frequent, the more stronger the pressure on her trachea. Feeling a last fit of anger, while breaking the neck of his captor and seeing her lose all semblance of life, to stay there, flaccid, and expired...

Revenge and excitement gave way to tranquility. He could rest in peace now. He had already delivered death to that unforgiven flower, even if only in his imagination... He thought he saw Yaheli around him, dancing and tenderly stroking her face with her lite hands...

_And only then he knew he had succumbed to the effects of the drug..._

_--- Mr. Yushchenko, are you listening?. This is no time to sleep, there are many things to be told... ---_ Said the woman approaching him and slapping him twice.

_--- I...will n-not...rev-veal...anything!..., I-I won´t!..., I´ll rrre-t-turn h-home and...I´ll g-get what is right-f-f-fully mine!... --- _the Russian rebuked insistently

_--- That´s it, think positive, even though its really of no use... ---_ She said, making a connection between the mainframe and his RIG. Her voice was wry.

_--- I-I-I will not... ungh... confess-ss - any-t-thing --- _the woman issued a half grin.

_--- I do not intend for you to confess anything, Mr Yushchenko. Your mind will do when the right time comes ---_ said as she typed more things in her handheld tablet and double-checked the connection between the computers.

_--- It´s n-not t-true!... ugh, no!...ughhhh! --- _theRussian felt a twinge in his head. Something was wrong. Not only he hadn´t lost consciousness, his mind worked normally as well. But his head was burning as if it were host to an inferno.

_--- What is happening Mr Yushchenko?, You don´t seem very well ---_ There was an unhealthy tone of satisfaction in her voice.

_---W-What have y-you done to m-me?, w-what have y-you done to m-me, bitch?, W-What have y-you done?! ---_ he said, trying in vain to move.

_--- Oh! I'm such a dumb person i´m afraid!, I haven´t administrated the benzodiazepines as I told you. Unfortunately, my hand landed mistakenly in a syringe containing mind stims --- _she said waving a hand gesture indicating an oversight ---_ which were, of course, delivered via nanomachines ---_

_--- Uughhh ---_

_--- Nanomachines are prohibited by UEG legislation, and they´re only restricted to medical applications. Those are the famed nanomeds, that have a very short lifetime within the body, deriving from its function. Yet we in the EDF designed some new models, resulting in some very interesting toys, very versatile. They can serve as a means of tracking, can manipulate body chemistry and enhance the body's resistance to harmful substances, can trigger sleep inhibitors, or adrenaline production... all of them very good uses. But they have also a last application... --- _

_--- Uughhh, noooo! --- _

_--- These nanomachines can be programmed to infiltrate the cerebral cortex. They are so small that the human immune system does not even recognize them as pathogen agents. When located at key points of the brain, they begin to produce a series of stimuli that affect the region of the hippocampus among others, producing a series of reactions between the synapses of neurons, which set in motion the mechanism of memory, since this region controls the long-term retention. Once the nanomachines receive the electrical impulses, it takes little to intercept and decode the signals, as any evil hacker of 600 years ago would do. And everything can be done through a tool as simple as a RIG ---_ she said pointing to his suit and putting her hand on the connection cable.

_--- Y-you. ughh!.. uugh, GUUGHHH! --- _Yushchenko said trying in vain to rise. Cognitive stimulants gave incredible reasoning power, but tended to inhibit other functions.

_---__Law punishes the raping of prisoners with the severest penalties, as one of the worst crimes against humanity, you know?. But there is no legal framework prepared for a case of "mental rape". Even if they could conceive it and believe it, how would they typify it?, It would require the very testimony of a victim ---_ and so she dedicated him the most mischievous smile she could sketch _--- Too bad dead men can´t tell good stories! --- _

_--- UUUUGH!, uuugh!, guuu!, huuuu!, UUGHG! ---_

_--- Brave last words Mr. Yushchenko, whatever those are... in the EDF we do this procedure with strong anesthetic-sedated subjects. But in payment to your "professional" attitude towards my brother, I am compelled to deny you any pain medication, as the results could be tainted by all the __chemical reactions that are taking place right now in your body. Your pulse is nearly a hundred bpm. You __must learn to relax... __Now quiet! __--- _The woman spoke and set something in her personal tablet. Something just made him freeze. His involuntary movements were still up, but all other traces of control over his body, suddenly seemed to vanish.

_In his head a terrible feeling of pain took control. It was so strong that he believed he would die. Suddenly vignettes of his life happened again before him, at full speed and in disorder: _

The memories of his fifteenth birthday were the first: When his manager and trainer of the Alpha Unit gave him his first gun, an ancient chrome projectile-weapon caliber 0.50, that looked gigantic in his hand:

_  
--- "The Justice Dispenser"... ---_

_  
--- That name is so ridiculous --- _

_  
--- So how would you name it? ---_

_  
--- Грейс ... "The Grace" ... --- _

That trip to the UPEO Zone, to Nigeria specifically, on its first assignment for the C.E.C.:

_--- And what does UPEO stand for ? ---_ (Asking his commanding officer)

_--- It means "forgotten" in a language as dead now as the hopes of these people ---_

All the fighting in the Global South American Zone, complete with the smell of death and gunpowder:

_--- Don´t stop shooting!, If they get across the mountain pass, we will be dead before you __know it!, Shoot it, shit, shoot it! ... ---_ (A large explosion destroys the group that is harassing them).

Walking through the corridors of the offices of the C.E.C., all men and women, staying away from his path:

_--- Is that him?, Is he the one the General D__irector called__?. __Look, look!, He´s the Angel of Death! __---_ (People pointing at him accusingly)

_The touch of a warm body, soft woman curves that shudder at the first touch of his hands:_

_  
--- Do you love me? ---_

_  
--- Do you still need to ask, silly? ---_

_  
--- If that´s so, why don´t you ever tell me? --- _

The smell of sweat and gore that he has to clean from his face, only to continue killing:

_--- Sing, my dear Cossack!, Sing while you kill!, Rejoice, for tonight will be ours! ---_ (his teammate Smith yells, while gunfire and explosions fill the skies all around)

The rictus of pain and humiliation of a black man, when he urinates on him, then beats him to unconsciousness:

_--- What the hell are you looking at me черный шлак?!, Eh?!, Eh?, Don´t look ... Stop looking at me!, Проклятье! ---_ (Spitting on him)

A woman running along the waterfront of the coastal zone of Havana, her graceful and light body jumping, dodging obstacles and people, only to stop panting before him, flashing her most seductive smile:

_  
--- If you're my welcome committee, then I'm in luck tonight... --- _

The face of a walking corpse dressed in an elegant black suit, mentioning something about the knowledge of ancient peoples:

_--- The Asians have always been more sensible... ...demons..._ _in the grip of them, one is not more free than the most menial of slaves_ ---

The perennial grimace of the dead being piled in the cars of a train along a deserted road near Ajeba:

_  
--- This is what happens to those who oppose the C.E.C. --- _

The carefree smile of an Asian girl laughing with her adoptive father, while the Russian looks through the window of their home, without saying a word, soaking wet because of the rain and the harsh, cold weather:

_--- What are you doing Ribbel? __---_

_--- I´m preparing my things for school ---_

_--- But there´s still two weeks before school starts! ---_

_--- Yes, but it's better to be prepared in advance, right? ---_ (She bears a sly smile)

_--- Sure of it, daughter... sure of it ---_ (both of them laughing openly).

The cries of protest from the strikers in Excella AE-725, which surround the lonely office of the C.E.C. while the sun sets in the turquoise horizon:

_--- Well, gentlemen, enough of this!, it´s your last chance, withdraw to sleep and nobody will get hurt... ---_

_--- No!, we will not leave!, it´s enough of exploitation already!, enough of treating us as if we don´t exist!, We will not allow it any more! ---_

_--- All right, do not say you were not warned ---_ (to another group of people) _--- Open fire! ---_ (Shots, people falling, screaming, chaos)

The easy laugh of a young brunette who tells him that she has learned to write, scribbling his name in chalk on a wall…

_--- But... how? ---_ (Honestly surprised)

_--- When you're not at home, I read your books... __I want to learn everything!, Travel!, Know about all the things that ... ---_ (She can´t finish because he kisses her tenderly).

The sweat in his hands when he stops to rest after a long day of mining stone with the manual tools:

_...  
--- Hey Von Alper?!, What is better in your country?, Women or beer? --- _(Rodrigo Cortez pats him lightly on the back).

_  
--- It depends on circumstances, but generally beers are less cold to make love with... ---_(Laughter from a good part of the mining deck).

The cold, barren frozen wasteland, which opens in front of him on Charon, one of the three moons of Pluto:

_--- "__Now was I, and with fear in verse I put it. There where the shades were wholly covered_

_up, and glimmered through like unto straws in glass" __---_ (said to himself peering into the desolation before him)

Finally, there appears the corpse that directs the destinies of the C.E.C. stopping in front of him with a smile of satisfaction:

_--- Congratulations Mr Yushchenko!... your work history enables you to join one of the most secret projects of the C.E.C. ---_ (Walking at his back, discomforting him).

_--- And what would that project be? ---_ (Turning to him)

_--- Follow me ---_ (Goes out through a door in the wall of his office and takes him through a series of dingy corridors, up to a sterile laboratory, where a series of big vats closed by shutters, that have hoses attached to them, carrying nutrient solutions, lie before him. At his side monitors with details of an alien writing flood the room with its green light ).

_--- What is this place? ---_ (Curious about the contents of the tanks, he goes near one of them, while noticing at a nearby table, a scale replica of the Black Marker that Michael Altman discovered on Earth).

_--- Welcome, Mr. Yushchenko, to the Renaissance Project --- _(the corpse presses a button and all the metallic blinds of the transparent vats retract, revealing several bodies floating amidst a viscose, bluish, bubbling nutrient solution. Repetitions all of them, at different age stages, of the same slender body of a young woman, from Asian descent).

_  
--- "Prodeunt Inferni Vexilla Regis..." --- _(Mutters to himself solemnly).

His mind was about to explode. The constant pain that ran through his head like a sharp sword wouldn´t stop at all. His heart beat rapidly, and he had this oppressive sense of anxiety that dominated him. He needed to breathe, but the supply of oxygen which his suit gave him, was not enough. His perception of time was altered. He couldn´t tell if he had spent thirty minutes or only a few seconds. He was turning blue, could see his face as Kendra uplifted his mask, could see his reflection succumb to cyanosis in one of the panels of the main computers.

He couldn´t breathe... his hands wanted to unseal his mask, take it off and swallow a deep breath... ...

He couldn´t breathe... his eyes were turning and he didn´t have any control over his movements. His strong and outspoken gasps filled the quiet atmosphere of the room...

He couldn´t breathe... his vision was fading. He didn´t even see his beloved brown-skinned girl who danced all around him. He could not see five feet away. He couldn´t even see his nose...

_¡HE COULDN¨T BREATHE! _

The vital signs monitor from Anton Yushchenko´s RIG indicated brain death. Nanomachines had completed their work and were deactivated. Within minutes they would decompose in basic substances and there wouldn´t be the slightest trace of any complex component. Kendra Daniels approached the control console of the computer and removed a disk of ultra-high density crystalline polymer. The relevant information to the memory of Anton Yushchenko was safely stored in this means of support.

The Amerindian woman approached the security monitor and saw Isaac Clarke getting the relic out from its container in the lower warehouse of the Flight Deck. She tapped several instructions on the keyboard and spoke directly into the microphone, providing audio communication with her partner:

_--- __I restored power to the elevator. Take it up to the Hangar Bay and get that Marker on the shuttle. I'm heading up to the flight deck now. Oh god... I'm just going to run for it... wish me luck!_--- Said the woman displaying the best refined tone of hysteria she could fake, her malicious gaze shouting a thousand things without words or gestures.

She packed her things hastily, took the container of the polymer disk, charged her pistol, opened the seal of the door and gave a one last glance at the cyanosed corpse resting in a chair:

_--- You did a great job Mr. Yushchenko..., see you later... or maybe not ---_

And then she ran, closing the door and leaving the dead man alone…

In the dark...


	8. Memories of a forgotten world II

_**Dead Space**_ and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), _**Mirror´s Edge**_ and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**Memories of a Forgotten World II**

She lost consciousness while looking into the eyes of the beast. These strange yellow eyes that had beset her through the entire flight deck. As the monstrous sphinx went away, wounded and battered, something inside her body told her that she was no less hurt. Her ailments were hardly noticing, but that didn´t precluded them from being bothersome. Her sense of direction betrayed her, and suddenly failed to recognize where was up and which down. As a result, she dropped the gun, and without opposing any resistance, she fell. Her body plunged inexorably into the cold floor of the flight deck.

A cold sensation, accompanied by a sharp pain, was what invaded her when she reached the ground. Her body was not reacting to her commands. Her mind didn´t seem to obey either. She was staring into space, the starlight bathing her incessantly, her body protected by the transparent plastic of the roof. A person came to her. He bowed and smiled pleasantly. He was none of her teammates. He didn´t have Sergei´s blonde hair or boyish face, nor the Latin masculine traits of Rodrigo´s. He was more like a less old version of Isaac Clarke, but his face was more weathered than the engineer´s. But it wasn´t him either.

Something inside her suggested she knew this person. But nobody similar appeared in her personal memories. Her mind didn´t connect the face before her with the semblance of anyone who she had ever seen…

_  
Not in this life, what about in another?... _

That thought struck her head and almost as quickly she rejected it. It was rubbish derived from one of these ancient religions, no less similar to the creed of Unitology in its degree of falsehood. Her mind, eminently rational and shaped by years of strict upbringing, rebelled at the mere suggestion of such a notion.

She couldn´t say yet however, where she had seen the stranger. He was handsome and appeared to be no more than thirty-five years. His blond hair was short and elegant styling, perfectly attached to his skull. His long face foreshadowed well defined, strong features. A little low brow but adorned deep eyes, of a somewhat melancholic look. A big straight nose hovered in the middle, upon a mid-sized mouth and around the whole set, a square chin. The regular size head, resting over a body from a solid, not overmuscled constitution. On the lower torso, a gray sweat pants with a red stripe outlining his enviable silhouette. At the top, a white dress shirt, beneath which there was red shirt. He wore yellow tennis shoes.

In her mind a word appeared. She didn´t know where it came from, but it mattered little:

_--- Mercury ---_

If there appeared at her side, coming out of nowhere, a complete stranger she thought she had met before, without really knowing how, she was not about to be worried about ignoring how that name had formed in her mouth, let alone being one which all of a sudden sounded so appropriate:

_--- Hi Faith... ---_ he told her ceremoniously

_--- Wait, my name is not... ---_ she mentioned, showing some surprise.

_--- Faith. Looks like you struck the floor too hard, kiddo... --- _replied the man, inspecting her from head to toe.

_--- Do I know you?! ---_ She asked, being a little bothered.

_--- Well if you like the jokes... you´__re what you are because of me, sweetie ---_ said with a smile that seemed pleasant, almost paternal, which defused her.

_--- I don´t remember... you didn´t have to... come... for me... I could return to the headquarters by myself! ... What ... am i saying? ---_ She spoke and suddenly her manners and words sounded unknown, as if they had come from some other mouth.

_--- Faith ... Calm down, you do need to rest. You look terrible... close your eyes and relax. __Once you've healed, you will be able to remember more clearly --_- the man stroked her face and she closed her eyes. Her mind told her she was enjoying the touch of a stranger, but her heart didn´t feel it that way.

_--- All... right... but I don´t know why i´m listening!... __---_ She rebuked, feeling once again that the words were not hers.

_--- Same stubborn as ever... you only rest ---_ and then he seemed transparent, as if he were not there.

Ribbel closed her eyes and almost immediately fell into a deep slumber. Had she tried to stay conscious, she would have failed with absolute certainty. Her surroundings changed almost immediately. Everything seemed so familiar... as if she had actually been there...

_**Port Lowell´s main berth, Mars**_

_Almost two weeks before..._

The sands of Mars were illuminated by sunrise, when the train for Port Lowell stopped. From it came down a group of eight people, two of which were more conspicuous than the others: A thin Asian woman and a strong, polar bear-complexion man, who didn´t look very happy about the trip.

Both left the group ahead and he pointed towards the vast plain covered with the Crysteel dome that isolated them from the still nascent Martian surface. It would be years before they could breathe without any protection in that environment, so familiar and yet so hostile. But Crysteel, a transparent polymer with its crystalline consistency and the resistance of hardened steel, was undoubtedly a great advantage to make them feel the distance to that very moment was considerably shorter.

Both started walking towards one of the ports, where the group of officers approached a C.E.C. Shuttle that awaited them, to get them to their destination: The USG Ishimura. Five minutes later they were boarding the vehicle, which then took off seemingly effortless, thanks to the relatively low energy required to achieve escape velocity of the planet. The skill of the pilot was remarkable and certainly the short trip was made without incident.

The Ishimura was stationed on the Miller Main Yard code EXM-25 CEC of Mars. This gigantic structure that remained in geostationary orbit over Port Lowell, was undoubtedly, together with the five ships of the Planet-cracker mining class, one of the new wonders of civilization. The C.E.C. commissioned an entire generation of engineers and builders of ships to design it, and there was no construction in land or space, from the rival companies or even from Concordance itself, which would overshadow it, except maybe the EH-145-K Yard of the Earth, conditioned to contain all the company capital ships in one sector of the orbit. Fate was not leading them to the superstructure, but to see it only as a cultural attache. Ribbel on the contrary, already knew it, as it was the input and output buffer of the ships that landed on Mars, but not Varsington, whose migration to the planet occurred when the project was just in its initial stages.

Once the group landed on the flight deck of the giant ship, Ribbel and his partner sat in the overstuffed armchairs in the waiting room, where they saw the other members chatting among them, without losing any details of the facilities all around. Several of them had never been in a ship of the Planet-cracker class in their life, and watched with interest and wonder the design of the environments around them. Being a mining ship, the Ishimura excelled in technology, betraying the fact that it had more than sixty years of service. Its construction had in mind all possible practicality and functionality. The interior design however, had also those little details of comfort (call it a relaxing chair or a coffee vending machine every ten meters) that could make a man feel nice without developing the shock and claustrophobia associated with ancient earth crafts.

The main elevator door opened and an athletic woman, short hair red as fire, approached them followed by two security officers, one dark-skinned and well bigger than the other. Both had a plumbeous gesture:

_--- Welcome to the USG Ishimura. My name is Alyssa Vincent and I am the Security Chief of the ship. Captain Matthius apologizes for not being here personally, but there are important issues that deserve his attention. We will __escort you to the tram station, where we will deliver you to your appropriate residences for the next six weeks. The captain will receive you a little later, just before departure. You can leave your luggage where it stands, and the automated system of the ship will carry it up to your personal cubicles ---_

At that cue the people in the group came all around them. The little blond officer verified their identities with the automated database of the C.E.C. and separated them into groups, under the gaze of surveillance of the other. Alyssa spotted the two friends in the back of the group and approached them, immediately dropping what looked like a friendly snort:

_--- You lousy coward... finally had the arrests to travel into deep space ---_ She threw a blow to the man of the polar bear figure, who stopped it and said firmly:

_--- Not my own accord, but that doesn´t matter. However, in this giant tin can, I shouldn´t be afraid ---_ said the polar bear, and laughed outright, coming close and warmly embracing the redhead. Ribbel had a slight feeling of envy in her guts, but decided on not paying too much attention. The man turned and said:

_--- Ribbel, let me introduce you to Alyssa Vincent, ex-Alpha Unit operative and a good friend of mine since several years ago. Alyssa, this is Ribbel Connors, physiatrist, and zero-g trainer. He made it into the unit six months after you left ---_ making a few gestures toward the two women.

_--- Nice to meet you Miss Connors. __It's good to meet new Alpha blood ---_ the woman extended her hand with a gesture that was polite, but with a touch of disdain that was not lost on the Asian.

_--- The pleasure is all mine, Miss Vincent, And how is it that a delegate from the unit, ended as head of security of the most publicized ship in history? ---_ said the tall woman without losing her composure, but adding a slight ironic tint to her question.

_--- Well... the former manager retired and being my mentor recommended me for the position. If we add things on Earth became boring after a while, it doesn´t take a genius to see that a change of scenery would be refreshing ---_ the readhead said throwing a deep look which seemed to fulminate her. The brunette Ribbel stared back undeterred.

_--- A long history in a few sentences --- _Varsington said, aware of the growing animosity between the two women_ --- but we better go now. Your teammates seem very efficient in their work ---_

_--- Pendleton and Dobbs... --- _said, pointing to the other two, waiting for the elevator back to the left of the room to send another group of officials_ --- ...they are well trained, but they are not what the old man De Surge wanted. If he saw them, he would have said they are lacking the most important thing... ---_

_--- That being? ---_ Ribbel said, interested. She waited for the official to answer, but it was Varsington who spoke:

_--- De Surge would have expelled them from the unit immediately, because they lack brains. No matter how many muscles they have.. ---_ said him, pointing discreetly to Pendleton, the largest of the two, with negroid features -_-- if they lack the most important one ---_ pointing to his head and patting lightly on it.

_--- Sounds like what I constantly hear from old Yushchenko ---_ Ribbel reflected thoughtfully.

_--- Yushchenko?, So is he still active? ---_ Asked the redhead with a look of surprise, as if speaking of someone very familiar.

_--- Yes, he´s actually my boss ---_

Given that, the redhead let out a high whistle that made both Dobbs and Pendleton stop. They were already leading the last group towards the elevator. Both turned to see her, puzzled, to which Alyssa waved them to continue while saying:

_--- Pay attention and maybe you´ll learn a trick or two from this lady... ---_ While she smiled at her friendly.

_--- Let´s go ---_ Varsington said. They were about to enter the elevator, when a transmission of the bridge came to the redhead´s comm. This made them stop for a moment as she told them told them to wait. The woman replied:

_--- This is Vincent. What is it bridge? ---_ Answered to the holographic display coming out of his RIG jacket. The face of a mature man in profile.

_--- Port Lowell has just informed us that there is one last shuttle to arrive. They say its cargo mostly, but there are passengers as well ---_

_--- I thought we were done minutes ago Mr. White! --- _

_--- Yes but it seems the company feels specially generous today. Besides these passengers are tagged as Class 5 ... --- _

_--- I can´t believe it... more miserable bureaucrats. Okay. I will receive them personally. __Vincent out --- _She turned out to her fellows_ --- I´m afraid that I have some desktop rats to welcome. Go down by the elevator and continue straight on to the tram station. __My men will take you to the population deck --- _

_--- O.K. Alyssa, see you later. We will have a beer... for old times... ---_ Varsington said shaking her hand.

_--- I´ll be waiting anxiously. A pleasure__ Miss Connors. If you'll excuse me... __---_ And started walking towards the landing zone, where a shuttle was entering the area of zero gravity.

_--- See you ---_ said the Asian as well. She felt she would be seeing the head of security frequently, during the trip.

_--- Well, it seems that you've made a friend on the ship and you just barely arrived ---_ told the polar bear in a tone of sarcasm, as they entered the elevator and pressed the down button.

_--- You don´t say... Are all ex-Alpha workers like that? ---_ Asked the tall young woman leaning against the wall next to the door.

_--- No... Alyssa actually is far more smooth than all of the others --- _

_--- Tiens!, If she is smooth, I don´t even want to begin imagining the others... --- _

They rode the elevator and the door closed, leading them to the lower level. While they boarded the tram, Alyssa Vincent was coming down the main walkway to the ferry that had just arrived. When the gravitational engines of the spaceship deactivated, and the landing stair placed itself, she found three men. The former seemed a young hispanic man, average-sized, fairly attractive. The second was lower in stature, his features strongly marked, but the eyes of a deep, penetrating blue. Alyssa studied him up and down and what she saw on the way the little man moved, she didn´t like at all. Moved like military, looked like military and she would be fairly convinced he was a soldier, had it not been the fact he was squat for being in the service, that and he was dressed in the typical fatigue of extrasolar miners:

_--- I'm Alyssa Vincent, head of P. C.S.I. Ishimura, and you are ...--- _

_--- Warren Eckhardt, __Executive Director of Colonial Mining Operations__. These are my companions, Rodrigo Cortez and Dawid Von Alper ---_ the third one stepped in, the shortest of the three, with an aged appearance. A shiny bald adorned his head. He looked like a nice old man, the kind that don´t get into trouble. But the experience of the head of security woman with the bureaucrats of the company kept her on alert. She didn´t recognize the accent of his voice though. It was decidedly strange and certainly delivered more attention onto him. He extended a security card and the athletic woman took it and inserted it into a slot on the side of her RIG. It was a coded message for Captain Matthius, from the Corporate offices.

_--- Welcome to the Ishimura. __I presume that you will accompany us on the journey... ---_ she said, extending her hand.

_--- That's correct Miss Vincent. I must see the Captain Matthius immediately ---_ Eckhardt advanced holding firmly the salute. For an old man, he still had great force.

_--- I´m afraid Captain Matthius is in conference with the Corporate Offices right now, but if you let me escort you to the bridge, First Officer White will be able to do something to remedy that situation --- _

_--- Lead the way ---_ the old man told and started to follow.

_--- Guess here´s where we go our separate ways ---_ Cortez said as he and Von Alper took another direction.

_--- It is this way gentlemen... --- _The woman said, but Rodrigo just waved his head.

_  
--- The important one is him. We just happened to be present along the ride --- _pointing to the bureaucrat.

_  
--- Do you know the way to the Population Deck? --- _

_--- Yes ---_ said the deep blue-eyed Von Alper _--- I've been on this ship before when De Surge was Head of Security... ---_ he stared back and Alyssa couldn´t help but feel a slight chill.

_--- Then report to Officer Pendleton on the Population Deck, he will indicate you where your cubicles are. And leave your luggage in the reception ---_

_--- Roger, it was a real pleasure to meet you Mr. Eckhardt ---_ Rodrigo Cortez said, extending his hand. The man stretched it politely and then the others went towards the reception room.

_--- Follow me Mr. Eckhardt ---_ Alyssa said, taking the man down through another corridor.

For eight long days, the trip proceeded uneventfully. Each of the persons assigned to the trip by the C.E.C. performed the tasks entrusted to them as planned. Ribbel was commissioned to give a series of intensive-training classes to miners assigned to zero-grav areas, where the company had identified serious errors in protocol compliance for the work in zero-g conditions, derived from the fact that they didn´t have enough experience in such matters. Most of her students were young miners who were in their first or second deep-space trip, but there were also some engineers, medical staff and ship crew, who had to meet a series of mandatory exercises for work in extreme conditions.

The Asian was not comfortable using the Astro-RIG, but it was part of standard training protocol. She had assembled all her students in the zero-g basketball court, where, in coordination with other instructors present on the craft, taught the subtleties of the weightless maneuvers. There was "morning training", that stretched between six and twelve o´clock in the twenty-four hour schedule that the crew obeyed. In the afternoon, she assisted the medical staff in the Physiatry section of the Organ Replacement Lab.

She missed Varsington. They didn´t have time to meet regularly, because his business took him frequently to the engineering area of the ship. Only the select staff of engineers assigned to that dangerous part of the ship could set foot there. But the night of the tenth day, Varsington knocked on the door of her cubicle:

_--- I was wondering if you were in for a beer? ---_ He said standing from the doorway of the small room. Came dressed in clean fatigues who had his name engraved on his left side, while the coat of arms of the engineering department of the ship was embroidered at the left shoulder. On his back was the RIG device which highlighted the backbone of all the inhabitants of the ship as if it were dyed in electric blue.

The girl, who had returned early from the therapy sessions, had stripped from her clothes and was about to lay down on her bed to check her messages when the man with the polar bear figure found her:

_--- And let the warmth and safety of my cubicle to go to a pesky, crowded room? ---_ she said, poking him.

_--- Well, if you don´t feel like it, I'm sure Alyssa will not reject my invitation ---_ he provoked her, being sharp as well.

She didn´t have to think about it that much. She soon slipped into her work clothes, white slacks made from a very light and fresh fabric, and a sleeveless black shirt. Finally some red, light sneakers. Over all that a dress jacket accommodating the RIG that was provided to everyone in the ship. And finally the red gloves that accompanied her everywhere, a gift from his father, the one person whom she hadn´t seen for four years.

Once arriving at the dining room they found that the atmosphere was calmer than usual. There were few people at the tables and they even had the luxury of choosing, something virtually impossible in the usually crowded dining room. There, Alyssa Vincent was sitting at a reserved table near the railing that was a few feet from the terrace. Usually that was the spot for Officers of fourth and fifth ranges, excepting the Captain and the First Officer, who used to eat at the reserved place in the bridge near the Captain's nest.

Next to her was another man, wolfish features, brown skin, but with a clear English accent. Seeing them, Alyssa raised her hand and beckoned them to come and sit. A few minutes later they were happily chatting and sharing stories of Mars and Earth. Vincent's companion turned out to be a P.C.S.I. sergeant, one Gabe Weller, a veteran of the War of Resources:

_--- ... And then I was lying there, reloading my gun, with the Chinese and South-Americans trying to knock the walls of the shelter literally dead. Then I hear this explosion by the side. BAAM!. There was that idiot MacNeill firing on both sides, with an enormous linear machine gun in both hands. All of them diverted the fire towards him, but that damned sucker ran away to my position... can you believe it?... the bastard ran two hundred meters with a personal linear gun weighing at least a hundred kilos. And as he reached my position, the only thing he could think of was telling me... Gods damn it Gabe!, why do you always get into so much trouble, eh?! --- _

There was an all-out laughter. Weller was not half as pleasant as he thought he was, but he had that special, if sometimes a bit obtuse charm.

A good dinner, a couple of beers (wine for Weller), and the evening was getting really enjoyable. The main dining room had a view to the outside, but the only thing they could see at that moment was the space through the effect of the shock-point drive, a field of blue and violet, with strange effects of distortion, which surrounded the ship. It was certainly what one would expect from one of these rave-parties of the twentieth century. The only missing thing was the loud electronic music.

Ribbel turned her eyes toward the entrance when the door opened. A young woman, blonde, about thirty years, appeared in the doorway. Her suit and badges betrayed her as a member of the medical staff. The dark-haired woman actually knew her. She was Nicole Brennan, High Officer of the medical body. She had attended some of her zero-g practices, saying she was getting rusted about that part of her training, and her superior, Dr. Mercer, had suggested she should practice a bit. It was hard not to notice her, as she was pretty, firm and strong, but gentle in nature, and had won the hearts of every miner, engineer and staff of the ship that she had treated. Because of her self-imposed seclusion, she was also a source of small but constant concern. It was not very often for her to be seen outside the Medical Deck of the ship. But as every other human, she had needs, and eating was one of them...

_--- Excuse me a minute... ---_ said the Asian and rose. Her three companions stared at her puzzled, but soon found her reason for leaving them. Miss Brennan had approached the counter and was eating alone in a corner, unnoticed by anyone. She hardly noticed that the tall dark-haired woman of almond eyes approached, until she was right behind her:

_--- Nicole? ---_ the Asian put a hand over her shoulder.

_--- Ah, Miss Connors! ---_ the blonde woman jumped from her seat, causing the audience turn around to see her _--- You really scared me! ---_ visibly startled.

_--- Sorry. __I didn´t mean it. Why are you here all alone? __---_ Wondered as she sat near her.

_--- Because this is about the time I normally get to eat, and as you can see, it´s not really lively at this hour ---_ she lied, smiling slightly.

_--- Wouldn´t you like to have dinner with us?. We're at that table ---_ she said, pointing to the place where Alyssa and the others saw the scene with interest.

The woman looked over and then turned slowly around. She was not really interested in joining any group from the very beginning, but her assistant Perry had told her this morning, that she was immersed in her work, neglecting the social aspect of the trip. In other circumstances she would have ignored her well-meaning, if a bit nosy, assistant. But that very day, the sight of several pictures of Isaac and her in different situations, aroused a feeling of nostalgia that she had tried to overcome with little success. Maybe Perry was right after all...:

_--- All right ---_ with that, they both rose. Ribbel helped her get the food to the table where the other three waited, making room for the blonde woman.

_--- Miss Brennan!. A pleasure to have you join us ---_ Varsington said, rising and extending his hand, which Nicole had little desire to shake.

_--- Medical High Officer Nicole Brennan for you, Mr. Varsington ---_ Alyssa said curtly, as she left some room for the newly arrived´s chair between herself and Ribbel. The blonde smiled gratefully. Her week had been a bit uncomfortable due to the stalking of some sincere, if somehow recalcitrant officers interested in her, and it was comforting to know that at least someone else was not quite agreeing with that situation.

_--- Thanks, it´s good to have some company for a change ---_ said as they sit again while starting the conversation.

_--- You´re welcome Nicole. By the way, who´s standing __guard now at Medical? __---_ the dark-haired Asiatic asked as if to take the conversation by less inconvenient topics.

_--- My junior, Perry ---_ answered as she tasted her dish.

_--- Poor kid --- _Alyssa said, making a slight gesture of disappointment_ --- It´s very handsome, but a complete bookworm ---_

Nicole smiled to herself, but the gesture did not go unnoticed to Weller, who asked:

_--- Not wanting to sound hostile, but what's so funny Miss Brennan? ---_ As he raised his glass of wine for a drink.

_--- You´d be surprised. Those bookworms are not all what they seem --- _said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

_--- What... do you mean you and him? ---_ Mr. Polar Bear asked, incredulous, while Ribbel just shook his head in disapproval and got a sip of her beer.

_--- Miss Brennan, you know that relations between officers are not allowed and ...---_ Weller said and Nicole only managed to laugh harder, to the surprise of everyone, then added:

_--- No!, its not like that!. It's just that my ex-boyfriend, Isaac... Perry somehow reminds me of him. When I met him in college five years ago he had very similar ways. Very smart, seasoned for the study, but a little socially inept. However... --- _

_--- He´s a sex machine... ---_ Alyssa said without much ceremony. Varsington turned to her aroused, while Weller blushed like a tomato. It seemed like the kind of conversation the English was not really inclined to participate. The blonde smiled again as Ribbel took a little sip more to hide a devilish grin.

_--- Isaac was tender, the ideal man in my opinion, but...--- _leaned her head on her left hand as if a little bored_ --- he was too focused on his work --- _she finished, with a tinge of sadness that didn´t pass unnoticed to the others_ --- There was this issue with his father, Mr. Paul Clarke that...---_

_--- Paul Clarke?, the Paul Clarke?, the ship designer? __--- _Now it was Mike Varsington´s turn to be surprised_ --- Behold your lucky girl!. Falling in love with Paul Clarke's son! ---_

_--- I´m sorry... --- _ Ribbel said leaning on the table_ --- but who´s Paul Clarke? ---_

_--- It was... __maybe... one of the best ship designers of the world --- _Alyssa said quietly pondering her words_ --- His work for the Galactic Union Marine Corp was highly renowned. Rumor has it that even the Ishimura has a bit of his praised innovative design ---_

_--- And apparently the same work enabled him to amass a fortune in money and properties --- _Weller added quietly_ --- He was certainly one of the best engineers and designers the American Free Zone gave, no... make that the entire Earth ---_

_--- But it is said to have disappeared at some point while working outside the solar system. __That was well over thirty years ago and... --- _Nicole said_ --- Isaac told me everything I know about it ---_ the sadness reflected in her face_ --- but since his father left, things didn´t go well in his family ---_

_--- Such a sad story... --- _Varsington whispered_ --- And why did you left him? ---_

_--- That was like six months ago and... It__s such a stupid reason!... but... __---_ She sobbed recalling the moment when they separated. He was there at the 145-EH-K Naval Yard, at her request and they chatted about their days together.

_--- He didn´t propose... ---_ Alyssa Vincent quietly mentioned, As reliable for telling the difficult things as ever. Nicole blushed furiously and looked down, trying to find some plausible reason to leave her sight there. All of them were silent, watching their cups and plates, and told nothing. No one wanted to spoil the evening more than the redhead had achieved.

_--- I understand --- _the redhead said, placing a hand on the shoulder of the blonde and making others turn to see them_ --- Its not something stupid, it just the reason you gave yourself for not facing your situation with him. I've been in that position too... ---_

Something made Mike Varsington suddenly cringe. He apologized and got up abruptly, took his credit card and passed it through the card reader of the bar deducting the amount of his tab and Ribbel´s and then headed for the exit of the room. The brunette arose all of a sudden, and said something to others about how beers would be on her next time. Nicole also got up and thanked the others for the company. At one point the two women were outside the dining hall wondering where the man had gone missing:

_--- Wow, what´s the matter with him? __---_ the tall young woman said trying to find a clue to the whereabouts of her friend.

_--- Don´t know, but I'd bet my reputation that his reaction was caused by what Chief Vincent said ---_ Nicole spoke from behind her.

_--- Do you think so?, I mean, they both... ---_ Turned to her, puzzled.

_--- By the way he glanced at her, yes. Those were very interesting glances... --- _

_--- Now wait a minute... __Do you know something about him that I don´t? __---_ The tall woman confronted the other.

_--- Not the clever type, are you?. Any woman who has had a relationship deep enough, would be able to realize ---_ Nicole rebuked, not being intimidated. The Asian was a little taller, but that didn´t mind at all.

_--- You tell me... the one I understand, that had problems with the man of her life? __---_ Ribbel tensed her body, ready for any violent reaction.

_--- I didn´t know you played so dirty Miss Connors. I will only say that as I went through these problems, I can certainly tell ---_ said the blonde trying to contain her emotions, reflected in a slight outbreak of tears.

Ribbel stopped. She didn´t expect to finish the evening at odds with two people. She guessed Nicole didn´t want that either. She lowered her head and with an effort she swallowed her pride and said:

_--- Sorry, must have been the beer...__ lier... sorry again. __Sometimes I don´t know when to keep my mouth shut ---_ Nicole's hands rested on her shoulders. The blonde was little shocked.

_--- Don´t apologize. I think we both overreacted a bit tonight. You´d better go. Something tells me that there won´t be many moments like these once we get to the colony... --- _

The Asian raised her head and both smiled at each other. Only after getting rid of that emotional weight, it occurred to Ribbel that Mike might be in his cubicle. She said goodbye to Nicole and ran into the dorm area. The blonde waved to her and started walking towards the tram. With a little luck, Perry would have some uncommon case that could help distract her.

Ribbel reached the door of Mike's cubicle and found it closed. She pressed the comm button:

_--- Mike, Mike Varsington, are you there?, What the heck is it? ---_ scanning the hallways, at that time half-lighted.

_--- I'm ok, pretty. I only feel a little sick ---_ Mike's voice came through the audio channel, a bit distorted because of the static.

_--- Do you want some help?, we can go to the Medical Deck and ask Nicole or some other to check you up ---_ said leaning on the door, trying to hear through the steel panel.

_--- There is no need for that Ribbel. __I just want to be alone for a while ---_ the Asian rolled her eyes. Men these days...

_--- All right Mike, but promise you'll tell me all about it tomorrow --- _

He didn´t answer.

The brunette walked towards her own cubicle, in the next aisle, when she heard the door open:

_--- All right --- _

_--- Sorry? --- _she said turning abruptly.

_--- All right, I´ll tell you everything tomorrow after work, o.k.?---_ the polar bear said, trying to hide his flushed face.

_--- Okay, see you ---_ she answered, smiling and coming close by. He kept his distance taking her by the shoulders and kissing her forehead.

_--- G´night pretty ---_

_--- Bonne nuit monsieur ---_ she said, walking next to both an engineer and a miner, talking about going out for a beer together as soon as they receive their next paycheck...

The next afternoon date, however, was not meant to be, due to multiple commitments from both. They had reached the planet Aegis VII, and the news of the situation in the colony had caused some discomfort among the scientific staff of the ship. It seemed that all was not as good as they thought of it first. Efforts were redoubled to train personnel. Nobody had time to chat idly, the days were more stressful now that the ship actually showed what it was meant for. At the third day of arrival, the Marker was moved to the ship, as they were finishing anchoring the gravity tethers on the planet. And next day a large concentration of people gathered at the ore storage bay where they had stored it, a valuable element of Unitologist religion. Among them was Ribbel, who out of curiosity had gone to see it. She heard a rumor that they would show it to the people that early morning.

She had watched the original Marker, at least in illegal vids. The original was a black monolith of a rock similar to obsidian. She couldn´t touch it, but she sensed the texture and hardness had no equal. This Marker was identical to that of Earth, with the difference that it had red streaks on its body that gave it a strange appearance. And the unusual engravings of the body were there too, inscrutable and indifferent to human evolution.

Upon returning to her cubicle to prepare, she noticed a man watching her. It was the miner who had passed next to her the other day. Since boarding the ship, she was under the impression someone was watching her, not knowing who or how. Always dismissed that thought as part of the claustrophobic feeling that a ship of that class brought. But she couldn´t help suspecting that deep-blue eyed miner was somehow shady...

She walked into her cubicle, changed her clothes and seeing that she still had plenty of time, decided to sleep a little longer. Her dream was full of blond men that urged her to jump from unfathomable heights. A blonde woman ran past her and both of them jumped here and there, carrying messages and parcels in yellow knapsacks. And her travels carried her to the highest building of a city, where the police pursued her without mercy or respite. That dream was not very pleasant, but it was intensely emotional. Before her RIG alarm awake her at eight o'clock, that hour being the very beginning of his scheduled classes, the face of another Asian woman, of very similar features, told her she was her sister, and that nothing would separate them...

She ran as desperate, dodging pedestrians and crowded herself in the elevator out of the dorm area, among a group of miners on their way to the tram station. Passing near the mess hall found Mr. Polar Bear waiting at the door:

_--- Mike, I'm late for my classes ---_

_--- I know, I just want to tell you we will talk this evening ---_ that made the woman stop.

_--- Are you for real?, because that´s what you told me four days ago ---_

_--- This time is serious ---_ he grabbed her by the arms _--- I´ll wait for you in the Mess hall and I will explain everything ---_

_--- O.k. Michael Varsington the Third, i´ll trust you on this, because right now, I'm teaching a class ---_ she said and kissed his cheek.

_--- Okay ---_ said the polar bear and went out of her way.

Ribbel arrived at eight with seven minutes, at the locker room of the zero-g basket ball court. In two more minutes, she dressed herself on the Astro-RIG and opened the door. Her students were already there, ready to begin. A slight warm-up routine of twenty minutes and then she turned the key to deactivate the gravity. The force that held the bodies attached to the ground was terminated soon and the feeling of lightness was as notorious as it was disconcerting. She gave the order to activate the magnetic boots and soon began to show her students an exercise to make a stunt jump over themselves and land on the desired upward surface on their feet.

She stepped into the ceiling of the room, sliding into one of the platforms of the basketball court. Everything was going perfectly. She began to turn her feet, when suddenly there was a blackout. She realized instantly what that meant. She landed and grabbed the iron grips fastened in the ceiling, while the miners were shocked and begged to her to be careful. Energy came back a second later and it seemed a good opportunity to get to a safer position.

She stood up and began to propel herself, when the power was cut again. The new blackout didn´t last long, but it was enough to reverse the effect of none gravity to one G. The seconds that followed were the most harrowing of the entire trip. Ribbel plummeted against the edge of one of the platforms. On impact there was a terrible crunch that shook the bones of all present. They got to their teacher, not wanting to move her, in fear of causing her more severe damage, and she didn´t answer any of the calls they made to her. One of them ran up to the transmitter in the locker room and notified the Medical Deck.

When Nicole received Ribbel´s body, she was not conscious. Her vitals were few and she had suffered several fractures on her back, and a series of dislocated bones and fragmented cervical discs. The suit had protected her to a certain extent and it was through it that she was alive, but rescuing her from the clutches of death was a daunting task and High Officer Brennan spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon doing surgery, stabilizing her, applying nanomeds and massive doses of opioid analgesics to alleviate the massive pain that her body was experiencing. To save her she used much of the available medical supplies and put into practice techniques that would have given a fit to her teachers at the faculty.

Fourteen hours later, she finally managed to stabilize her. She had gained more experience of that particular operation, than every other in her career. She almost performed a miracle taking her out of the crisis, but she was not completely out of danger yet. The procedures that were performed had microscopically re-aligned her column. The nanomeds injected to her, had repaired much of the fractures of her spine. The pain had diminished considerably, but there were some punctured organs that couldn´t be repaired. The Biological Replacement department, worked afterhours that night. Even Dr. Mercer, Head of Medical Unit was involved with helping in the healing.

By twenty-eight hours of the incident, Nicole decided to play all or nothing. The Chemical Lab area synthesized, at her request, a highly hazardous chemical solution. A tissue-regeneration tonic that was being fabricated at the Esperanza III, a medical complex in space. Its distribution on Earth and the colonies was pending due to latent side effects. But it had shown an efficacy of ninety-six percent in reviving necrotic tissue, under special conditions. Nicole knew that Dr. Mercer would approve their use, being used to take risks to save the lives of his patients. But Dr. Kyne would object it to be unethical.

_At that very moment she knew her career was about to go through the trash or would rise above anyone around her... _

She took Ribbel, who had not yet recovered consciousness, to zero-gravity therapy room. Irony passed through her mind when she remembered that a fall in a room of those characteristics had left her the way she was. Now a stay of a day or two in those same conditions could save her life. Aided by Perry, they brought her to one of the metal coffins in the main chamber, which looked like a giant circular mausoleum. Injected the solution into her bloodstream and said a prayer for her, something she never meant to do, because of the rational thought that a doctor should not be giving himself to outbursts of faith. Faith, however, was what was most needed at that time.

She closed the container, making sure of keeping her well protected from losing heat. The look of pity on his assistant reminded her painfully of Isaac´s. She didn´t want to give in to the feeling, so she left the room, leaving Perry to finish the details. The blonde woman had the strange feeling that it would be the last time she saw her.

She walked lonely down the halls and got to the E.R. where she found Mike Varsington. He sat on one bed, with his sight fixed to an indefinite point:

_--- Mike... ---_

_--- When did it happen? ---_ Said without turning.

_--- Almost twenty-eight hours ago, when they "popped the cork" ---_ she said, using the metaphorical name of the operation to remove a piece of the planet.

_--- Will she be alright? __---_ Asked the huge polar bear, his eyes denoting a sudden clarity that worried her.

_--- I don´t know Mike... I guess... ---_ she began to explain but an incoherent cry stopped her.  
Mike turned around everywhere and tore his hair:

_--- Shut up, shut up!. She will survive!..., no, she will not die!, get out of my head! ---_

_--- Mike, what happens?, Stop! ---_ said the blonde as she watched Michael Varsington the Third banging himself against the wall, muttering a phrase that she could have sworn it said:

_--- Make us whole again... ---_

The gigantic man shot her a venomous glance and rushed toward her. He slammed poor Perry, who had arrived from the zero-g therapy room, with a strong kick that projected him into the wall, knocking him out instantly. He was over her already and closed his hands on her neck to strangle her when she heard a shot and a blood splat stained her physician gown. Both life and blood flowed and escaped from Varsington´s body, while Alyssa Vincent, divet pistol in hand, approached her:

_--- You okay Miss Brennan? ---_

_  
--- Barely... --- _replied the medical doctor, clasping her breath.

_  
--- You better close this area. Strange things are happening on this ship. And I will find out for certain what is wrong, even if I die trying... --- _the redhead said, helping her out.

_  
Prophetic last words... _


	9. Determinations

_**Dead Space**_ and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), _**Mirror´s Edge**_ and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.

* * *

**Chapter Eight:  
Determinations**

The three men saw Ribbel falling over the railing of the cyclopean room, and as soon as they recovered from their surprise, went over to her. The first one to arrive was Isaac, who was much closer. Rodrigo and Sergei arrived seconds later, when the girl was delirious:

_--- What does she say? __--- _Wondered the Latino.

_--- I can´t understand it, but the way I see it, she doesn´t seem to be aware. As if she__ were in a dream... __--- _Isaac said retrieving her from the floor.

_--- Is she hurt? --- _Sergei wondered pulling over the mask of his suit, sweat flowing freely down his forehead.

_--- There is no way of knowing. Her RIG malfunctioned as a result from the fall --- _said Isaac, trying to take her pulse by pressing on the base of her neck_._

_--- We have to get her to the Medical Deck! ---_ the Slavic said.

_--- For what?, Saving her will only lengthen her agony... just like ours! ---_ Rodrigo mentioned with an agitated voice. The others looked at him severely and Isaac replied:

_--- Silence Cortez! ---_ the engineer raised his fist in a threatening signal.

_--- No, god dammit!, we´re screwed! What do we do now?, We´ve already lost the only chance of escape from this hell! --- _Said the Mexican standing up and waving frantically in the air. His voice was even more upset, and was beginning to unnerve the others.

_--- I said silence! --- _Isaac stood up as well.

_--- Calm down tovaryš!. __We can´t loose it now --- _spoke the Ukrainian interposing between the two upset men.

_--- Calm down?, __you just tell me __when have we been calm?, damn Russian, Ukrainian, Belarusian or whatever you are!, don´t you understand?!, we´re de... ---_ The Latin turned around to face the military man and Sergei couldn´t stand it anymore...

A powerful blow to the stomach and Rodrigo Cortez bend himself as he lost consciousness. Isaac looked to the Slav with determination:

_--- We must save what we can from the wreck. __Klark, dopomohty meni otrymaty tse dva do chovnykovoï!_ _ ---_ said advancing towards the American, his face transfigured by what he had to do.

_---What? --- _as the other shut his helmet.

_--- Arrh... Forgot it!, I tend to speak in my native language when I get nervous... Mr. Clark, help me get this two over to the shuttle, so we can keep an eye on them while we save what we can ---_ said the Slavic taking the pulse rifle and inhaling deeply.

_--- All right ---_

Isaac got Ribbel and Sergei got Rodrigo. Both approached their cargo to the wreck and placed the two bodies near each other. Sergei stood guard with the pulse rifle, while Isaac rescued the fire extinguisher from the ship and put it to good use to extinguish the flames. Rodrigo woke after a few minutes, more appeased, but still scared:

_--- I thought we were friends... ---_ said the Latin, unwilling to look at the blond, boy-faced man.

_--- We are odyn, that´s why I did it ---_ he said the other one smoothly, as he scanned the surroundings.

_--- What a strange concept of friendship you people have... ---_ replied the Mexican and stood up.

_--- Saving our friends when they most need it, that´s what it is ---_ said the other turning towards him, lifting his visor and forcing a slight smile.

_--- Saving him, not hitting him… ---_ told the other half-grinning as well.

_--- Let's just say that you deserved it tovaryš --- _finished the other and turned around. He didn´t want his partner to see that he was starting to lose his composure. The gesture didn´t go unnoticed at the dark-skinned, who just said quietly:

_--- Thanks ---_

_--- Can you lend a hand to Mr. Clarke in there?, It seems that we´re going to need all the help we can ---_ pointing to the wreck, in which remained little if any flames at all.

_--- Agreed ---_

Five minutes later Rodrigo and Isaac left what remained of the ruined ship. They had managed to rescue most of the supplies that they had collected, except for a suitcase that had perished in the fire. In return they found a small leather briefcase that appeared to have several drugs in syringes. Different tonics and first aid kits, some ammo, a handheld electronic tablet that would help them determine the status of their partner as soon as they could connect it to Ribbel´s RIG, and a data storage disc, made from a strange polymer that Rodrigo was strangely inclined to rescue.

_--- It may contain something interesting ---_ had justified the Mexican.

By connecting the tablet to the women's gear, they found her vital signs were declining slowly. The suit´s software couldn´t determine what was happening, but an A.I. specialist may:

_--- We have to move to her to the Medical Deck. Her vitals are waning --- _Isaac took the bags and began to distribute them.

_--- But that's on the other side of the ship!. If the tram was operative at least, it wouldn´t be that long and that exposed as well!, But there´s no way to activate the car without removing the one that stuck in the course from the mining section to the flight deck! ---_ Cortez began again, raising a new bad face on the other engineer.

_--- We will travel through the maintenance tunnels... ---_ Isaac said trying to contain his growing discomfort.

Both the Slavic and Latin saw him anxiously, pondering if his new partner had lost his mind...

_--- That's suicide!, We wouldn´t be able to get ever! --- _said Cortez, making the Kellion´s former engineer turn around and start walking, avoiding by all means possible rebuking the Latin.

_--- I guess we have no choice, tovaryš --- _said the Ukrainian and he pushed his rifle on his shoulder, heading towards the end of the huge room.

Rodrigo could argue an awful lot of reasons, all true, about why they wouldn´t be able to reach their destination. But that didn´t stop to Isaac from carrying Ribbel and going down the platforms needed to reach the service ducts of the tram rail. The American engineer had been in that area of the ship, when he had to restart the transport system itself, so he knew the road as if he had traversed it... (well... technically it had been only yesterday...).

They went down six meters from the middle level of the ship, walking along the principal maintenance tunnel. They didn´t expect anything to pass over them. The toxic gases of the different systems at work filled the main conduct with a thick, dirty mist that covered the way. The ship was silent, but they found it strangely calm. Not a whisper, not chilling howls in the distance, nor the grunts of the monsters all around. The Ukrainian kept aiming and jumping at every new mechanical noise, turning his head nervously. The Latin didn´t put out the Contact Beam, and seemed unwilling to walk too slowly.

The journey lasted almost an hour, in which all men were silent, taking turns to carry the woman every three hundred meters. Whatever had happened, the necromorphs showed no signs of activity. The persistent feeling of being watched was still there, and Isaac was already used to it. But he kept his head hanging around the fact that, having injured the giant creature, they had inadvertently released a silent but effective message to all the others:

_"Look what we can do to the strongest of you, do not mess with us"._

They finally reached the bottom of the station. The white signs that read "Medical Deck" were like an oasis in which everyone could take shelter. They went through a service elevator, checking all the dark corners and avoiding them as much as they could. They advanced slowly, while taking the necessary precautions. When they arrived at the emergency room, Rodrigo put down Ribbel delicately and deposited her on a table, having successfully repressed the urge to vomit. Things were really different the time from when he traveled through the Medical Deck. Last time he was there, there was still a semblance of order, although there were few people to attend.

Sergei took over from Rodrigo, taking care of the girl and the two engineers looked for some wires and other materials to make a derivation from the power-cell connected to the wall in the same room. Ten minutes later they made another connection to a small metal case attached to one side of the desk, a diagnostics computer. The holographic blue screen common to most devices came to life and displayed itself, showing various start-up messages:

_**Start UMAS Ver. 15.25 - BSYS Systems 26XX**_

_**Initiating memory protocol checks... 1,2,3....100%... OK**_

_**Initiating Diagnostats® system... OK**_

_**Checking for BiomatrixD® connections... OK**_

_**Checking for power for external connection... **_

_** Insufficient power for full connectivity...**_

_** Insufficient power for partial connectivity...**_

_** Initiating operations with minimal system connectivity... OK**_

_**Initiating Mirage® system...**_

The laser display showed the face of an older man, very similar in physique to the late Dr. Kyne. (Caucasian, years leaning over him, blue eyes and brown hair, sturdy constitution). Where the physical similarity was obvious however, the neutral and quiet tone of the A.I. voice contrasted with the hysteria and panic that survivors had recognized on the late doctor...

_--- Good morning ... my name is Unimark Medical Assistant Version 15.25, but you can call me UMAS. Who is the patient? ---_ Gesturing with his hands.

_--- UMAS, my name is Isaac Clarke, our patient... --- _pointed to the slender Asian lying as if she was Sleeping Beauty_ --- is called Ribbel Connors ---_

_--- I'm not detecting any infrared port activity in your patient's RIG... please take an extensible sensor from the side of my CPU and insert it in the transfer ports of the RIG --- _

Rodrigo took a connection from the side of the machine, kind of a shielded cable that had a standard three-prong connector, compatible with all the devices available on the spacecraft. Plugged it to the electronic tablet. A series of numbers were reflected in the computer screen and the A.I. began to follow them with its eyes until the flow stopped and the profile information from their companion was displayed:

_--- Connors, Ribbel: Assignment number CECPER458SDXW, Therapist and Zero-G Maneuvers Trainer, Alpha Unit, stationed two weeks ago on the Planetcracker ship USG Ishimura. Obtaining medical history... --- _

_--- Alpha Unit? ---_ asked Rodrigo in disbelief

_--- What does that mean? __---_ Sergei wondered as he swapped his sight between both men and their Sleeping Beauty.

_--- It means our friend is a high level pawn within the C.E.C. ---_ snorted Isaac.

_--- H__igh level pawn?__ ---_

_--- Yes, Alpha Unit is one of the major divisions of the company. Delegates from the Unit are responsible for completing specialized missions that low-ranking employees are unable to solve, and are not worth the presence of executives of medium and high levels to be concreted ---_ said Rodrigo trying to make memory of the few times he had seen the company representatives take action to solve problems, several of them not pleasant at all...

_--- So they´re pieces of medium importance. As if they were horses or bishops of the entire chess game ---_ Isaac said, leaning against a wall. The glass behind him, looked to the dimly lit lobby of emergencies.

_--- She certainly never mentioned anything about her work. What do you think tovaryš? ---_ Sergei pondered, leaving the rifle on the floor near the table. His face expressed great concern.

_--- Concordance was very interested in getting his hands on the Marker. No wonder they´ve sent some of their special servants to get it... ---_ Cortez commented as he sat beside her and stroked her hair.

_--- I´m proceeding with the scan of the patient --- _commented UMAS, who had remained silent all this time_ --- Analyzing bodily functions... body functions failing and in detriment due to recent neural trauma, resulting from the use of a regenerative specialized chemical. It is recommended a synthesized stem cell compound to stop the decay and tone the gray matter of the subject. Once applied, she will need rest in a zero gravity chamber for approximately five hours --- _

_--- What kind of compound? ---_ Asked the three men in unison

_--- Transmitting recipe to the RIG´s of the caretakers... please wait --- _The three men received a barrage of data in their respective systems_ --- Recipe transmitted. You can find the materials and equipment needed for the synthesis in the Chemical Lab of the Biological Replacement Area of the deck ---_

_--- What leeway do we have to make the mix? ---_ asked Clarke.

_--- Extrapolating patient conditions, according to vital signs. Critical threshold for damage to vital organs will be reached within 35 minutes. Different degrees of damage to life-mantaining systems can speed up the process. Norepinephrine injections are recommended to maintain vital signs high. The application of this compound in doses of ten cc. will delay the decay for a stretch of twenty minutes a dose --- _

The three men took the drug out from some packages. They were preparing the first injection, when Rodrigo stopped and asked.

_--- Adverse reactions? ---_ He stopped Sergei from applying the dose.

_--- Do not inject more than 30 cc. in an hour, as it may result in of possible adverse side effects --- _

_--- Okay, that leaves us ninety-five minutes and counting to operate. Sergei, we will need you to stay here with Ribbel. We will take advantage from our friends being apathetic and having tried nothing yet. Rodrigo, the chemical area is on the way for the zero-g platform, as far as I understand you know that area ---_ Isaac ordered taking command of one of the plasma cutters.

_--- Yes, I worked there for a while, but... ---_ The idea of returning there, even when the monsters had not been heard of, was nothing appetizing.

_--- No buts... I'm tired of losing companions to this fucking plague. Take care of the chemical part of it. I will go to the gene therapy and organ replacement lab. UMAS, we will need specialized technical assistance, as we are not doctors --- _

On that cue the Artificial Intelligence passed its holographic hand through the RIG of the two engineers. Both perceived another loading of software on her clothes.

_--- As I don´t have enough connectivity to navigate through the spacecraft systems, I am providing you with fieldwork agents. These programs are specialized software that does not contain all my functions, but are savvy enough to help you recognize and synthesize the necessary solutions for the compound --- _

_--- Okay. Sergei, when we call you, move our girl to the entrance area of the zero-grav therapy room. We will also try to find an Astro-RIG, because, if memory serves me well, the adjoining hallway is exposed to vacuum ---_ the American ordered, checking the route on his map and using the Guiding function of his RIG.

_--- Pohod´tesya, tovaryš. __Be careful ---_

_--- Let's go Cortez. We have very little time for this --- _

Rodrigo's face was all indignation, but gritted his teeth and walked out through the E.R. door. Sergei meanwhile approached Ribbel and clothed her with a clean surgical field found inside one of the drawers in the room and then reloaded his weapon. Pulling out one of the few chairs that remained intact after the disaster, sat beside her, while he asked the A.I. if it had a good remedy for a headache.

At the main junction of the Medical Deck, the two engineers splitted. Rodrigo entered the corridor leading to the zero-grav therapy area. He knew he should go through a long corridor with lighting failures, which would lead him to a door and a stasis recharge machine. He gritted his teeth and walked even more faster, without stopping to ponder about the shadows around him. Lights blinked when he was halfway and it made his pulse accelerate quickly, but the imaginary enemies waiting to attack him, didn´t appear at all. He quickened his step and was about to leave the main hall when the door closed suddenly before him with a loud metallic sound, which made him jump. The light went out for a few seconds. The man hit the door, trying in vain to open it and getting no answer, leaned his head on it. From behind, came a whisper:

_--- Don´t leave me here... You killed him... Rodrigo... the scale of things... our parents... a beer... life is unfair... it´s not true... the key disruptor is... Make us whole again! --- _

The last one of them was not a whisper but a perfectly audible word. Rodrigo turned his back, switching on the Contact Beam, with a bright orange light illuminating the hall:

_--- Who's there?, Answer now dammit, or I shall have to..! ---_

His mind was working a mile a minute. There was nobody in the room except his own, and yet something seemed to lurk in the shadows. Whoever it was, it was mocking him mercilessly...

_--- Hello little brother... ---_ said a familiar voice, making his blood automatically freeze.

_--- Vera?!, Vera!, where are you, dammit?! ---_ Flipping his head erratically to all sides.

The door behind him opened all of a sudden and it made him fall, dropping the Contact Beam. He stood up like a flash and took the gun again. But the light had returned to normal and the door was open. The white dim lighting of the recharge terminal bathed one side of his armor.

_--- Damn you, Vera, wait till I find you... __---_ muttered and made an obscene gesture.

* * *

Isaac in turn had entered through the corridors of the Research area. The department of Gene Therapy and Organ Replacement was in the back of the main area. The offices of Dr. Kyne were there too. He recalled how he had entered the first time. The bloody door was still broken in operation, making that unnerving noise. Shot a load of stasis and waited for the door to open enough for him to slip into the room. The calm he felt in the hallway was still present. Heard only the sounds of the secondary A.I.´s, who were not smart enough to determine that there was no one to give warnings about food schedules and departure times of the tram service.

He headed to the office front door. In that booth there was a corridor that led directly to the Organ Replacement Area. He remembered too well the first time he was there. The feeling of joy mixed with astonishment at finding a survivor among the hordes of the dead, finally someone who could tell him what was happening on the ship. But then came the horrible feeling of despair and anguish at seeing one of those things going off the surface of the green tanks containing fetuses. A "Lurker" as he called them, miserable bastards that seemed horribly deformed babies. Isaac remembered seeing this movie, a classic horror film where the monster was a deformed baby-mutant who killed everybody who crossed his path. He remembered having seeing it as a child in a holo-vid replay. The hallucinations and nightmares that followed that night pursued him for much of his childhood.

He didn´t expect to have that overwhelming feeling again, but it came back renewed, as that thing with her small features, barely formed and yet terribly deformed, full of sores, scars and coriaceous abrasions along its body... when "that thing" launched a series of barbs into the body of the unfortunate survivor, without him being able to do anything to help...

He couldn´t run, but could swear he had a strange heat sparking in her lower torso and a terrible desire to mourn and hide in the first closet he find. The need to find Nicole however, was greater. Steeling himself as much as he could, entered the room to find the termite that Hammond had asked for. That strange feeling transformed into something warm dripping all over, as that thing jumped over him inadvertently and struggled, trying to bore several holes on him with its spike-equipped tentacles...

His most primal instinct came out at that time. A baby represented humanity's most precious hope, the seed of the future, the occasion of celebration for the opportunity to meet a new person. Instead, the image of the monster was nailed in his mind as one of the most traumatic moments of the trip, where he had to fight all the established ideas of a lifetime of social conditioning, to catch the monster, whip it to the ground and kick it more strongly than he ever would have thought. When the blame for destroying a "nascent life" gave him a break, stared back at the creature that attacked him, and suddenly the same guilt that had gripped him before, no longer existed. Nothing so monstrous was to remain alive...

He was standing in front of the same door, and hoped that the early deterrence shown to the necromorphs would still be in effect. He opened the door with that unmistakable sound of servos working on internal mechanisms, moving the metal plates to make way. The room was still there, the chemicals were still in place. But the rotting corpses of the enemies he faced right there, were gone...

He didn´t think it that much. Activated his RIG and the effigy of UMAS appeared before him:

_--- UMAS , I´m in the Gene Therapy room, what do I need from this place? --- _

The electronic doctor winced and formed the image of a cylindrical metal container, medium size, with a reinforced lid with staggered security seals, and a series of labels warning that the content be handled carefully, to remain stored at a low temperature, and to follow security protocol 2516 for handling the substance.

_--- What you see Mr Clarke, is a recipient of Stem Cells. It is necessary to get the container and a portable cryogenic unit. Go up to the terminal at the end of the room, please --- _

Isaac made his way cautiously up to the computer at the far end of the quarter, while keeping his senses on alert. His mind played jokes on him with the faces of the fetuses that had not yet been corrupted by the plague and in at least two occasions, he could swear that the heads of the future children would turn to him, their faces consumed by hate and anger.

UMAS broke into the computer registry, the engineer´s suit just barely registering the download, when the A.I. re-entered it again:

_--- The two devices are together on shelf 25, activation code TGRO-6937 ---_ said pointing to a high shelf, behind a door where, if his mind served him well, another thing had jumped over him to attack:

_--- Damn you UMAS. I hope this will truly restore our girl, otherwise I will eviscerate your shell from each of its circuits, the most painful way you can imagine --- _

_--- Mr. Clarke... A.I.´s can not feel any pain... my particular functional design its not programmed to... ---_

_--- Aw, shut up... ---_

* * *

Sergei had been alert, with his rifle loaded and ready. Just twenty minutes had passed after his companions left. He had administered the first injection of epinephrine to Ribbel´s body under the ever vigilant supervision of UMAS, and now prowled about from one side to another in the E.R., never taking his eye off his companion. He had tried to avoid attention from the computer, since he had received an unexpected visitor. Next to him, but only visible to his eyes, there was a woman with long brown hair to the back in a ponytail, with a white suit, similar to his:

_--- Why are you here Olena? Are you coming as "Korova holovoyu", to prove whether I´m worthy of wealth and honors?... or as "The Viyi", indicating the demons where my soul is, so that they can destroy it? --- _

The woman said nothing and smiled familiarly. She gestured at him and placed a flower wreath on his head. Sergei gave a tear on his face. He had promised Straczynski to show her his hometown, and being together at the festival of "Ivan Kupala". But none of that would be possible now...

_--- Do not tempt me woman. I can´t go to seek a fern flower, as much as both of us like the idea... although I admit that I´d love to have one, so that my luck would change a bit... --- _

She kept herself silent. In reply she raised in her hands a flower glass, brightly colored, semi-transparent, cut into a kind of Murano glass with various inlaid with gold and silver in the veins of the leaves. She passed it on to Sergei and he took it gently:

_--- A "fern flower"?... __heh, heh, heh. __I guess this must change my luck, harnenka divchyna ---_

The woman said nothing, but her smile was radiant. She extended her hand to him and stroked his boyish face. Then pointed to a corner. Sergei turned, to discover a "Lurker" sniffing, hidden behind some containers. When the Ukrainian realized and raised his rifle to shoot, the monster squeezed through a vent, without a chance to pick up a fight. The confusion was evident when the Slavic turned to ask his girlfriend and no longer found her. Glancing towards the door he found her standing there, looking at the corridor leading to the morgue, motioning him to follow. Sergei watched the clock in her RIG and noticing that his partner would not need him for another fifteen minutes or so, he took a pair of clips, locked the front door, charging UMAS with not opening it until he or his companions return, and under the complacent gaze of her ghostly fiancee, he went hunting...

* * *

Rodrigo finally got to the Chemical Lab, which was on sideways to the Quarantine Area of the Deck. He had not heard his sister call him out, but he wasn´t sure of anything, and wouldn´t be that surprising that unwittingly have chosen to ignore any family call. It had happened to him previously...

Gave herself a couple of slight taps on his helmet and the image of UMAS appeared before him:

_--- You made it to the Chemical Lab?, Well... __we need a basis for biological cultures first... __---_ Said the A.I. without altering his features _--- Surely professors Jägerwald and Hawley had already prepared a solution and it probably may be in any of the chemical storages... look in the office to the left please ---_

The lab was huge, with several tables and machines aligned in a row and folded to the sides. Flasks, pipettes, tweezers and lighters holding rested on the tables, and more sophisticated mixing equipment such as centrifuges, analytical balances, magnetic stirrers and pH meters, among others, adorned the wall of the room. The furniture was lit in a sickly yellow that did not give a good appearance to the place. The rancid smell of the chemical reactions that took place there was annoying, and he decided to get his mask on again to isolate any odors.

The hall was flanked by two offices, one on each side, which had more instruments. Rodrigo followed the construct instructions and approached the window where several other drawers with chemicals were. The left door was locked, forcing the engineer to remove a panel to cross some connections, restarting the working circuit. The port had that familiar blue hologram with the word "open", but when the order of proximity opening ran through the door, something made the light of the room flash, and he met face to face with the unsettling figure who he had already heard before. Her sister Vera, pale and gaunt in the black suit used for the funeral of their parents:

_--- Damn! ---_ cried the engineer, falling back and preparing the Contact Beam. UMAS´s voice made him stop.

_--- What happens Mr. Cortez?, I perceive an increase in heart rate and body temperature. Adrenaline production is soaring, but I don´t detect any reason consistent with this pattern of behavior ---_

_--- Shut your hole trap__... __UMAS ---_ told the Latin as he crawled out of reach, trying not to look at the terrible sight of his dead sister.

_--- You don´t deserve life brother... but you neither deserve to become one of them... --- _

Rodrigo charged the gun again, but the A.I. quickly replied:

_--- Mr. Cortez, it would be very inconvenient to do that. If this device shoots and hits one of the drawers, it can cause such an explosion, that this suit wouldn´t be able to possibly protect you ---_

_--- Shut up, freak-mail! --- _

_--- Your fate hangs by a thread, Rodrigo Cortez, help us to be whole again... or suffer the consequences ---_ the thing taking the form of his sister said, with a deep voice that wasn´t anything like her. It raised its hand and was about to touch him when the light in the room flickered again and the spectral presence disappeared.

Rodrigo sighed and stopped the charging of the gun. He almost had a fit, but was still alive. UMAS quickly diagnosed with the limited ability it had and determined that all vital signs were returning to normal. The man rested a moment on the floor, wondering why, of all things, he was to deal with a vulgar spirit. A sound made him jump again...

_--- Rodrigo, it´s Isaac, I have the stem cells and gene therapy equipment, we need to mix it, but as I heard from UMAS, it can only be done in the Quarantine and Medical Studies area, as there is the only functional re-integrative device of the ship. When you get your stuff, go ahead and inspect the room. According to my map it should be a few feet from where you are now... ---_

_--- A, a-agree... I'll see you... there --- _

_--- Are you okay Cortez? ---_ Isaac asked, his face closer to the screen.

_--- Yes... it´s nothing... Cortez out ---_ The Mexican rose and wiped the sweat from his brow. He then turned to the drawers and forced them all open, causing several angry responses from her artificial companion. But he didn´t care at all. At that point in the game, dying of a heart attack by the appearance of his sister, or the actions of the necromorphs, were things that no longer had any meaning for him. Identified the basis for cellular cultures, and closing the drawers again, left the Chemical Lab, almost in fury.

* * *

Sergei went slowly down the aisle and was scanning the road, arriving at the center aisle, where the elevator to the morgue was. His spirit-girlfriend made him the usual signs to tell him to walk slowly. The predator he had been following, came out of the vent, looked for something and then jumped to another one, at the end of the corridor. When the monster moved away, the man ran up to the vent and peered into it. The duct moved down and in two directions, right being the most prominent, probably to one of the service tunnels.

The Slav was about to leave the hunt when he heard a noise that came from afar. It seemed like a voice, feverish and delirious, but a voice after all. A question was raised whether it should move away from the emergency area, being that only there was only ten minutes left before his companion would need a new injection of adrenaline. It was his call, so without wasting time he got to the vent and broke through, moving as fast as he could. Crawled low through the ducts, remembering his training and fighting both the intense feeling of suffocation that assaulted him suddenly. Step by some sections covered with the goo that came with the repelent creatures and it led him to broader quarter, which seemed the confluence of several vents. The light in the room was slightly bluish, and Sergei realized that they must be near some of the machines that provided services like running water or electricity to the basic structure of the deck. The smell was fetid, a strange mixture of sweat, blood and chemical components that would prove toxic to people without field armor.

On the ground lay what looked like a man. Beside him was an Arc Welding gun, one of the many gadgets made by "Schofield Tools" (a sister company of the C.E.C.) modified to operate as fearsome weapons. But he also had a Rivet gun. In a less urgent situation, a Rivet gun could be a powerful deterrent to someone who knew what this was not a toy. The shooter could propel bits of metal heated over 150° C, at least 700 meters per second, putting it in range of a large caliber gun (due to the size of the rivet).

The man lying there (which also carried a completely sealed military armor with (and this was what most surprised the boy) the coat of arms of the USM Valor engraved on the breastplate) had used the gun to seal two of the vents that opened onto the room, with thick metal sheets. Necromorphs probably would have gone through if they really committed to it, but the steel plates functioned more as camouflage screens, placed to prevent the very idea of going through that junction. The room had this vent that looked to one of the maintenance corridors, one that just went sideways to the morgue.

Sergei spied the grotesque form of one of the monsters lurking around, dragging a body. Then he saw pass an "Infector", and made his macabre task by inserting a sharp proboscis in the head of that body. Corpses were also brought by some other monsters, hoping that the pseudo-vampire would do the same with them. In no time he heard growling and whining of the creatures, and when he saw most of them repeating the same operation, he realized...

Their truce would not last long...

Quickly auscultated the corpse beside him. Whoever was, was still alive but unconscious. He got it in his arms and dragged it as readily as he could. He saw no insignia of rank, or name engraved on the plates, but a shield on his left shoulder denoted the corpse, as part of the military engineering unit of his former ship. He was out of the vent, when he heard more rumblings. Carried his unwitting partner to shoulder the round way, pointing with his right hand the pulse rifle. He knew he would have little accuracy while carrying that burden, but hoped to find little if any trouble at all. Went through the corridor that would lead him to the E.R. When suddenly, round the corner, found one of those things... no... not one... a whole group of them...

Fell back while those living bits of rotting flesh, apparently blind, but with the other senses perfectly sharp, glided towards them with small steps. The sight of them was disgusting to say the least, and Sergei found himself quietly wishing he never went hunting by himself. If he used the rifle, would spend a huge amount of ammunition in small targets. The rivet gun was not an option either. He measured a safe distance from him as his would-be attackers and took the Arc Welder. It came to life and projected a small electric beam that crackled and curved a bit while holding the trigger down. Aimed towards the group of enemies and fired a beam of electricity that fried the little bastards, hearing their shrill cries. Sergei sighed in relief and was about to resume his journey, when the comm came back to life:

_--- Sergei, we are synthesizing the compound. We´ll need you to move Ribbel to the zero-g therapy area in twenty minutes --- _said Isaac, while leaning to observe a few things in the Mixer machine he was using.

_  
--- I'm afraid it will be more difficult than that tovaryš. Found a survivor of the Valor, is unconscious, but he seems fine. But I guess I´ll need assistance to awake and sooth him --- _

_--- Hmm... okay, we'll go over there ---_ Isaac said, his voice sounding slightly annoyed. He was about to cut off communication, when there was a powerful roar from behind. Sergei turned instantly, but there was´n a single soul in the corridors. It was not a good sign:

_--- What was that? ---_ Asked Rodrigo Cortez, entering the scene, a cold feeling flowing through his back.

_--- Something very bad indeed odyn, you´d better hurry! ---_ He cut the comm, and carried the the body again, as fast as he could.

The two companions returned to the E.R. just in time. Upon entering they found Sergei firing on two "Slashers", and a "Jumper" (those that seem like half a human body with a sharp blade in their lower torso) inadvertently approaching him from behind. Rodrigo pulled a chair with the TK module and threw it against the creature, while Isaac fired on the two "Slashers".

A few seconds later there were only mutilated bodies around them. Sergei broke the metal plate of a box and put it over the vent through which they had entered. Rodrigo guessed his intention and took the Rivet gun, while Isaac broke a second board and placed it beside the first. Four shots later, the hole had been sealed again.

Only when they double-cheked they hadn´t left a single open space, the three could rest. Sergei pointed to an operating table, where they found the resting survivor. Isaac called the A.I. and ordered it to do a vitals check-up. UMAS blinked a moment and then said:

_--- Stable vital signs. Subject in a deep slumber as a result of anesthetic delivered wrongly by the diagnosis routines from the suit. Providing anti-torpor medicine... clear reaction in a minute... correcting diagnostic routines on military suit... successfully achieved correction --- _

The soldier in front of them awoke suddenly, observing everything around. Looked for weapons, drawing his hands to the side, without a chance of success, as his breath was stirring. The three men got the visors of their costumes up, and raised their hands in peace. The other did the same and then took off her helmet, revealing feminine features and an olive-face. The platinum hair fell long, with a straight fringe, sided by straight locks framing her face. His dark green eyes seemed lost, however the light of reason was in them. Her features were rather thin, accentuated by her ebb condition.

She saw all men and then fixed her gaze on those who had military armor, with the coat of arms of the USM Valor figuring prominently:

_--- Who are you?, Where am I? ---_ Said straightening her body and preparing to attack.

_--- You are in the USG Ishimura Medical Deck --- _the Slavic advanced towards her, raising his arms_ --- I´m 1st Marine Corporal Sergei Ilya Yaskolev, second special squad of weapons, __USM Valor, and these are my buddies... __---_

The woman relaxed her posture and smiled, like someone who just found a foothold to avoid falling into oblivion. She stood and said:

_--- First Lt. Stephany Edwards, special engineering first squad, USM Valor. Seems I´m not alone in hell. And who is he? ---_

_--- Isaac Clarke, USG Kellion level five engineer, under C.E.C. contract ---_ The man said, extending his hand in greeting. The woman blatantly ignored it.

_--- And why are you wearing an Advanced Military Armor? __---_ She said getting up and facing the man.

_--- It's a pretty long story, but... ---_ Rodrigo said stepping in and putting his hand on the woman´s shoulder. She took his arm and pushed it, making him spin a pirouette and landing face down on the floor. Isaac took the line cutter and pointed it to the woman, who stopped instantly. Sergei took her arm:

_--- Lieutenant Edwards, sir... ma´am... __I understand that you´re out of your element, surrounded by strangers and scared, but we are not the enemy --- _said the blond pointing to the bodies of the necromorphs_ --- if we fail to cooperate among us, we won´t last long ---_

The woman's face changed a little and relaxed. She broke off from the comparatively enormous hand of Sergei and asked quietly:

_--- What is our situation? ---_

_--- Pretty bad, rest assured ---_ Isaac commented as he helped Rodrigo get up _--- Sergei can fill you in the details as we move from this area. This place is no longer safe ---_

She was not willing to argue with that. She rose and took her helmet, adjusting it to her armor. While she finished preparing, UMAS intervened:

_--- I must assume that there won´t be any patients coming to this area soon. Whatever these strange specimens are ---_ pointed a finger to the dismembered creatures_ --- they´re too much hostile ---_

_--- For a medical A.I. you are pretty assertive UMAS --- _Sergei remarked with a bit of sarcasm.

_--- Then let me go with you please. I can install myself on your Advanced Military Suit, Mr. Clarke. If deleted the medical routines, I can more than compensate for its lacking ---_ the blue avatar said, surprise invading the faces of almost all present.

_--- A wandering artificial intelligence? --- _Rodrigo said_ --- in my four years of engineer I have not seen anything like it! ---_

_--- Certainly Mr. Cortez, is not usual as you said, but it´s not my desire to remain here, stranded, to see how this ship is "going to hell", as you colorfully say --- _the construct said calmly_ --- It´s my belief that I can be more useful going with you. That belief does not conflict with the laws of robotic under which I´m programmed --- _

_--- We go from surprise on surprise. An intelligence programmed with the three laws of robotics in mind ---_ Rodrigo said surprised. He was going to make another comment when Lt. Edwards stopped him:

_--- It´s no wonder, in fact it is desirable for medical A.I.s to behave that way ---_ having said that she stood silent again.

_--- Agreed UMAS, but before we go, tell me what is the state of Ribbel? ---_ Isaac wondered, connecting again the cable to the tablet.

The A.I. blinked a moment and said:

_--- Stable vital signs, but the effect of the second dose of adrenaline is about to expire. Recommend implementation of the third dose, as to keep her stable enough for secure transport to the zero-g therapy area --- _

_--- And I'm confident it´ll be a place easier to defend than this ---_ the platinum blonde said.

_--- They won´t go in so easily --- _said Isaac while administering the final dose of epinephrine he was holding_ --- Miss Edwards --- _addressed the woman, extending a plasma cutter to her_ --- Twenty rounds and two magazines of six shots in the bag to her left, help us with that ---_

_--- O.K. ---_ said the woman and took the bag.

All of a sudden the light of the elevator to the right of the room began to move, showing it had been called from the floor of the morgue. They all felt their blood freeze. Sergei took the pulse rifle and Rodrigo switched on the Contact Beam. Isaac and the women raised their plasma cutters:

_--- Since when can they use the elevators? ---_ Commented Rodrigo getting nervous

_--- Don´t know, but we won´t be staying here to find out ---_ interrupted Isaac, and used the TK module to pull the power-cell of its hole again. The room lights were turned off and the elevator doors locked, just as they were opening to reveal a bony protuberance, sharp as a blade.

_--- Time to leave! ... --- _

At that voice they opened the door of the E.R. lobby and left. Rodrigo dismounted the panel adjacent to the mechanism and crossed the wires, shorting it and locking the door. From inside the room could be heard roaring and fierce growls and nobody wanted to stay and see the welcome committee.

They got outside the door of the lobby, with Rodrigo aiming the Contact Beam in front, and Sergei giving coverage to the line cutter, the Slav gave the rifle to his lieutenant and she returned the plasma cutter to Isaac, who thanked it greatly. Maneuvering and shooting while carrying the Asian woman, would be a daunting task.

They opened the door and then a small horde of necromorphs pounced on them. Rodrigo shot into the floor and the explosion blew the enemies. Sergei line use the cutter to finish off the remnants. When none others were detected, they ran away and came to the door of the main junction. There were no creatures waiting for them. Isaac approached the C.E.C. vending machine and plucked the main panel. A small supply of ammunition fell to the ground, along with some medical kits. Stephany ran and bagged all of it. The roar of the creatures could be heard through the air ducts, and it was only a matter of time before they were found again.

Having gathered all of the ammo, they rushed down the corridor where Rodrigo was trapped. Nothing came to oppose them. But when they entered the adjacent area, there were already waiting several "slashers" and a similar creature, who seemed more robust and slow. Isaac knew those carried something in their bellies, so he shot a stasis charge and paralyzed it, while others dismembered all of them. They ran into the main elevator, but the weight of all of them exceeded the lifting capacity. Sergei and Stephany waited below, holding the creatures at bay. Once the lift returned, they embarked, while their peers gave fire support from above. Two minutes later they were approaching the lock-seal between the corridors. The thick titanium and steel doors that encased both sections were sufficient to hold all their pursuers. There they could rest.

_--- Did you find the Astro-RIG? --- _Sergei wondered while leaving aside his gun and sitting down to rest.

_--- Yes, someone in the quarantine area had it to leave a box open ---_ said Isaac and pulled out a suit that seemed made of a special fiber. The texture seemed plastic, but was much more elastic and resilient. Instead of a mask as the engineering or military suits, there was a clear viewfinder. It was state-of-the-art in spacesuits. Perhaps it wouldn´t give much protection against certain hazards, but it had many advantages in vacuum against other armor, heavy, rigid and with less air capacity.

Sergei and Rodrigo dressed Ribbel and once they were ready, they left the airlock. The corridor (or what was left of it) was located almost on the outer hull of the ship. A sudden depressurization had destroyed the hull, and with that, the interior had been exposed to vacuum. As they walked by, Isaac eyed Aegis VII, on whose surface there was no longer so deeply marked the crater made by the tectonic extraction. A cloud of dust and debris emanated from the planet and the whole planet seemed fractured in a grotesque manner. The main rift covered almost half the planet, and one could see imminent tectonic activity. Isaac realized quickly, they were too close...

They reached the next airlock without incident, and stripped the dress off from his friend. They opened the door and entered the room with the usual caveat that they were entering a zone of zero-gravity. The main spacecraft A.I. could still fulfill that role apparently.

Rodrigo pointed at the side-ends of the room, which looked like a giant cylinder. In each of them there was a circular slit large enough to let in an adult human... or necromorph. Isaac got down to the floor and watched some metal debris floating in the air. He indicated his engineer partner to take one of them and use the TK to lead it to the right end of the room. He then went up there with the rivet gun and almost pressure-sealed the opening. Sergei and the lieutenant were standing guard next to the brunette, when they heard a scream from the other side. From the left opening several jumpers were coming in. Rodrigo eluded one, that lunged forward to him with his claws, and taking the Contact Beam, struck him hard on his head down to crushing it, stomping their arms also. He was not unscathed however, because the monster hit him with its tail, leaving a deep cut to his armor that the nanorepair systems got to close quickly.

Sergei shot against the others and in a twinkling the room was full of blood that hovered between them. Isaac took another piece of metal and projected it over the opening, trapping a jumper and cutting it by his half. Then the engineer ran to the hole, and applied some metal studs to the metal plate, reinforcing it with steel bars that were at hand. He heard a shot behind him and turned to observe that Stephany had aimed to his side. The dismembered body of another lurker floating near him..

Repelled all the necromorphs still trying to slip through the holes, and when order was finally restored, cleared zero gravity, making the dead bodies and scrap metal fell to the ground. Then UMAS spoke:

_--- Do you still have the compound Mr. Clarke? --- _

For an answer the man pulled out a silver syringe from one compartment of the limited inventory of his outfit. Despite the rush, it was still intact:

_--- I need the hypodermic with nanomeds ---_ asked the I.A. and Rodrigo provided a second syringe. The looks of all fell on the syringe, that the hologram with the likeness of Doctor Kyne touched. A series of lights twinkled in the body of the injection and when all was ready he said:

_--- I have re-programmed the nanomeds to trigger a series of chemical reactions that will make totipotent stem cells react to ... ---_ Sergei's comment that it should spare them the chemistry class took its toll on the construct:

_--- This is turning the contents into neurons. Then they will be delivered to the brain regions where they´re needed. This process can take about four hours, in an hour more we can see results. We now need an empty rest chamber --- _

_--- That one where I found Ribbel should serve well ---_ Rodrigo said pointing to a kind of sarcophagus that rose from the ground when they moved towards. The A.I. nodded and they placed the body of the brunette in it. Another compartment surfaced, where the construct indicated Isaac to deposit the contents of the two syringes. When he had poured the substances, closed the chamber and the container sank near the sarcophagus. They looked like a flash of neon blue defined the contours of the figure and a series of whitish flashes indicated that the machine was starting to work. Rodrigo jumped to the manual control panel and disabled the gravity-generating grids. Everything started to float again.

Lt. Edwards had not said a word on the way down, but when things were more calm, headed straight to Sergei, with the firm intention to assert her rank and ordered:

_--- Corporal, sit-rep. Do not skimp on details --- _

Sergei told his misfortunes since the Valor crashed into the ship. As she requested, he spared all the details. He told her of how they were rescued by Isaac, the confrontation with the giant beast and the loss of the shuttle, how he found her limp, in the ducts of the Medical Deck. Isaac joined the story and told his own part, since the Kellion got to dock until he decided to return for his new teammates, avoiding mentioning the details about Kendra Daniels´ mission.

Rodrigo in turn clarified his part of the story. In the end, while everyone rested against the wall, to avoid floating too scattered, the lieutenant made a recap:

_--- If I got you all, we're stuck on this ship, because the only available shuttle was destroyed by the creatures... Right? ---_ There was a slight hint of reproach in her voice.

_--- Pravyl´no, Lieutenant. That is our sorry story ---_ Sergei commented trying to stop her. They had tried to not touch the thorny issue of rank, but it was only a matter of time before it would rise to haunt them.

The woman didn´t even flinch. In fact she seemed to be completely out of this world. It´s like she was in a state of permanent shock, but UMAS analyzed her brainwaves and confirmed it wasn´t the case. But secretly gave a diagnosis to others. She seemed to show traces of PDD.

When Rodrigo asked about that, UMAS discretely sent a message to his RIG:

_--- "Pervasive Developmental Disorder" may be a form of simple autism or things as complex as Asperger, Rett or Heller syndromes, but these are too serious for the symptoms she is displaying now ---_

_  
--- Damn, another "mad cow" --- _said the Latin taking his hands to face and stifling a sigh. Sergei poked him:

_--- We have other things that concern us, such as where do we go from here? --- _

_--- It's hard to say Sergei. Captain Hammond found the ship we were going to escape in, docked on the executive berth, but it still was missing the singularity engine that we took from the Valor. A vehicle that won´t allows us to use a shock-point drive is of no use, assuming there´s still something like that in this monster of a ship ---_ said Isaac, sighing.

_--- Which means we're stuck here until somebody in the C.E.C. thinks of sending a rescue mission --- _

_--- Cortez, we were the rescue mission... --- _Isaac commented.

All of them fell silent at that, crestfallen. The problem seemed insoluble and the more they got to think about finding a solution, the less their brains were working. They stayed like that for a few minutes that seemed like hours, until UMAS snapped them out of their depression:

_--- I don´t mean to pry, gentlemen, but I think I have the answer to your problems ---_

_--- What happens quack?, Do you know the location of another vessel? __---_ Commented the Latin in disgust.

_--- Yes, a ship that we can use to return ---_ The A.I. prodded their curiosity.

_--- Which one? ---_ Isaac asked intrigued.

_--- The Ishimura__ ---_

Nobody said anything. It was an answer that no one had considered. The ship had a good amount of supplies, air and fuel, plus a shock-point engine. Of course it also had a plethora of uninvited guests, without counting the fact that none of them knew how to pilot a ship of such a scale...

_--- You don´t have to pilot it --- _UMAS said, as if having read their minds_ --- the Resident Artificial Intelligence can do it for you, if you can reactivate it ---_

That answer was pure gold. They could seal the compartments that were exposed to vacuum and program the spaceship to return to the starting point of the trip (Earth probably). It was so simple it was nonsense that any of them haven´t happened to think of it before. Isaac saw the image of the giant "can of sardines" that was the Ishimura, moving in his mind and then he knew with sudden certainty, that it was possible.

_--- We have to try, as soon as Ribbel is up. We´re going to need all possible help ---_

_--- Count me in Mr. Clarke. It's the best idea I've heard all day ---_ said Lt. Edwards emerging suddenly from her silence. Sergei and Rodrigo looked at each other and smiled.

_--- I told you tovaryš, not all is lost ---_

_--- We still have the problem of the necromorphs... ---_ said the Latin trying to spoil the fun.

_--- They may be contained, as it was done before. The records that Mr. Clarke found throughout the ship, talk of a colony that had been founded earlier, when the Marker was brought to Aegis VII ---_ said the electronic entity and that re-ignited the curiosity of Rodrigo.

_--- Brought?, by whom? --- _

_--- The government --- _said the platinum-haired woman, before Isaac could open his mouth to answer_ --- The Valor´s assigned duty was to destroy the Ishimura if it established contact with the Marker. The Kellion´s crew had been infiltrated by an undercover agent ... --- _

_--- Kendra Daniels... she was tasked to have the Marker brought home ---_ said Isaac, with a venomous tone, leaving the painful memories of betrayal invade his mind once again.

_--- But the mission failed when the Valor crashed into the Ishimura, and its crew was massacred... ---_ added Sergei.

_--- Kendra tried to escape with the Marker, but that piece of rock seemed to have a mind of its own, it deceived and betrayed her. He who lives by the sword..._ --- Isaac ended, letting the silence reigned unopposed. UMAS dared to break it:

_--- Regardless of all these issues, the early settlers faced a problem like this alien contamination. They were able to contain it using a feature of the Marker that inhibited the growth and action of the nvading microorganisms. It enabled a sort of dead space around it, which scientists then expanded electronically --- _

_--- Yes, but if Isaac´s story is correct, the Marker is either destroyed or under a few million tons of planet rubble. There´s no way to get the colony to acknowledge what became of it, because there isn´t any transport. The same Damned. __Reason. Why. We´re. Here. Stranded. In hell! __--- _Rodrigo said repeatedly pounding his fist against the metal wall.

All bowed their heads again, defeated. Only UMAS was unmoved. When it seemed it had lost the argument, it presented an image of the corridor that was a few feet away, behind the closed doors. Nobody understood what he was trying to convey, but suddenly Stephany rose and analyzed the image in detail. Isaac also noticed something and looked more carefully. Rodrigo and Sergei stood up and did the same. All of them were approaching the picture presented in cool blue colors.

Isaac swore things were developing in the most unlikely fashion. When he recognized the figure, he couldn´t believe his eyes. He ran out of the room upon the astonished gaze of the others and entered the airlock leading to the corridor next to the void. His heart pounded and he was not sure if what he had seen was true, but there was no other way but to prove it. The others followed him, intrigued. If the monsters had decided to attack them, they would have met little resistance.

When they found the engineer, he raised his hand to a point in space. The sun that lit up the system was set for a new revolution, illuminating the outline of the world below them, with an orange glow that faded between pieces of rock and dust. All of them forced their view and then they found it:

_Floating in the middle of space, between a layer of rubble, with its black silhouette cropped against the planet. There was it... the striated accursed effigy... _


	10. Interlude

_**Dead Space**_ and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), _**Mirror´s Edge**_ and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.

* * *

**Interlude:  
Between two corrupted souls.**

_  
**Concordance Mining Company Home Corporate, Mars.**  
One month before the disaster of the USG Ishimura_

The Director General of C.E.C. was leaning back in his chair as usual. He had remained motionless in his ostentatious office for a while, one of those rare moments of stillness that emerged as if it was the coming of a comet, sporadic and fleeting.

He reflected to himself, concocting plans and wondering how much more he would have to wait for events that were required to be in strict order. Only at that fleeting moment when the stars are in position, and the fates decree of destiny changes... just at that precise moment... he would be able to find a minute-lasting window to let him escape, out of that corrupt body, to go to a new plane of existence. It couldn´t be before that moment, and if done after the auspicious time, it would be as if mutilating himself with a saw...

The presence of his personal A.I. took him out of his reverie. It made almost no noise, but that mattered little to his sensitive ear. In reality there was little that he could fail to perceive with his senses, magnified as they were. The presence of an A.I. assuming his avatar was perceived as the sound of a rushing stream to the sea, slowly and peacefully. He sighed and wondered what would his efficient, but annoying butler computer might want:

_--- What do you want Daniel? --- _He said in a voice that betrayed some irritation.

_--- It has arrived a new sub-space communication from the Aegis VII colony in the Cygnus constellation --- _

_--- And why should i be bottered by that?, tell me again what are the other senior executives for, Daniel? --- _said the man, visibly annoyed.

_  
--- Lord, message comes from Hanford Peter George la Salle Carthusia, director of the colony, it is encrypted with protocol Theta-542-M ---_

It awoke a keen interest in the man's eyes. Would that be the sign he was waiting for?. He decided to approach the situation with a much direct, thorough, but reserved as well, resolve as possible, but he knew very well that the used protocol could only mean one thing:

_--- Hanford Carthusia... let´s see it Daniel ---_

_--- Playing ---_ said the A.I.

The construct displayed the message. In it, the squat and complacent figure of Hanford Carthusia could be seen. He was an middle-aged man with a long and a little haggard face, unaccustomed to the rarified atmosphere of the planet, despite this being the fourth colony he presided. Hid his eyes behind small, metal framed, circular glasses, which didn´t help his image, giving him a sinister and unpleasant look.

The ambitious executive spoke frankly and decisively about the discovery of a new Marker in the bowels of the colony, making little or no reference at all to the creed of Unitology, knowingfull well like others, that the Director General couldn´t tolerate the faithful of Altman. When the message ended, the corpse-man seemed very excited:

_--- Daniel, what ships do we have available for the trip to the Aegis VII system? ---_ Asked without losing his composure entirely.

_--- The USG Ishimura is scheduled to make contact with the colony in three standard weeks due to a number of adjustments to the shockpoint drives, which are carried out in the orbital yard EH-145-K, around Earth orbit. Anyway, Carthusia had already requested the presence of a ship of the Planet-cracker class in that sector by the end of this month, because the colony has completed the exploration and analysis phase and is ready to...---_

_--- It´s enough Daniel, sometimes you don´t know when to stop. Give orders to double shifts in the yard, I want the USG Ishimura ready for the trip in two weeks ---_ the director said, gesturing with his hand.

_--- By your command sir ---_ the A.I. Answered and was going to disappear, but a new wave of the hand of his master stopped it:

_--- And also be sure to communicate to the colony the USG Ishimura will be arriving in four standard weeks. One more thing: Make a selection of profiles of potential employees available for the trip. Eight people. The selection criteria are rank, psychological profile, company loyalty and job matching with possible casualties aboard the Ishimura. Keep the list a secret from senior staff. Expand your selection to include staff of Alpha One and Two Units, as well as Obsidian and Scorpion Engineering classes, preferably people with a minimum of three years experience of working in deep space. I need that list in a week at the latest. Book three more places: I will assign three employees of my entire confidence and selecting --- _

_--- Understood sir. Anything else you need? --- _

_--- Yes Daniel. Get me The Doctor at the videcomm... ---_ mentioned the corpse, as he turned his chair and opened the curtain, watching the Olympus Mons.

_--- As you order milord ---_ and saying that the construct vanished, with that unmistakable sound of a running creek, perceptible only to him.

_When the A.I. left, the dismal man was left alone, but the light from his eyes still shone. Finally things were starting to move..._

**Two weeks later:**

A half-lit room was the first thing it noticed, when its senses were immersed in the atmosphere of that room. The pale light coming from the mahogany desk in front of him, created sinister shadows that stirred slightly with air movement. The atmosphere of the room smelled old, like those fine wood cabinets that have years unopened. It was an anachronistic smell in a world where synthetic plastics and metal were the norm for the rooms of a house. The occupant of this room however, was considered an eccentric by the few people who had the misfortune to cross his path.

The construct blocked a sub-routine associated with the demonstration of displeasure at the pungent smell of old wood. He knew what had happened the last time he dared to voice an opinion on the particular tastes of their master. An A.I. acting on the basis of fear was something the general public couldn´t imagine, accustomed to business intelligence models, that had no complex algorithms designed to emulate emotions. Daniel however was one of the most advanced A.I.´s from the company, far outpacing the performance of all others, including the so-called "Olympic Twelve", who controlled the nearby Olympus City. He knew too well that getting on the nerves of his master, meant to be cut a few hours of general information flow of the C.E.C., which in its machine-time, meant to live for years in a vacuum. No, it let the expression of its personal problems for another day...

Assuming its digital avatar, which was the representation of an old English thoroughbred steward, Daniel went to the desk in the middle of the room where a figure seemed to be asleep. He waved his hand to stop it:

_--- Has the ship already left? ---_ Said a thin cadaverous man, with trifling voice, as he lay reclined on a padded chair, upholstered in a velvet cloth.

_--- Yes, sir. The Director of Colonial Mining Operations is travelling on it ---_ the butler said impassively.

_--- Good. The Church has moved its pieces. The opening takes place as planned. Now we only need to wait... ---_ Reflected the other, keeping his eyes fixed on a point, beyond the fictional body of the A.I.

_--- Sir?... ---_ Said the simulacrum, letting out a hint of anxiety.

_--- What is it Daniel? ---_ The other didn´t flinch as if expecting the question.

_--- If I may ask... Why did we allow the Church to place so many loyalists on the Ishimura?, is it not too big a risk? --- _

The man that Daniel posed its question at smiled broadly, showing perfect teeth, which seemed to highlight the whitish-to-light tusks:

_--- Nothing the Unitologists do can change the outcome, Daniel. But it would´ve been too revealing for the Enigmas and their servants, not being able to infiltrate like-minded elements, on which is so far the most important mission of the company, the largest since the first encounter with the Marker. Moreover, our own envoys will ensure things go as we want --- _

_--- That reminds me sir... the Doctor has obtained interesting results from the biological __sample, results you might want to see... ---_ The hologram commented, simulating a slight forget that they both knew it was not only a comedy but a very personal one.

_--- Alright Daniel, but remember that at my old age, reading technical reports is far too tedious for me. I Would rather have The Doctor come here to my office to present his findings ---_ the charade continued, with the man feigning an old age that he didn´t have, and letting the A.I. pamper him a bit.

_--- I´ll have it arranged milord. __Do you need anything else? __---_ In a perfect fatherly tone, giving the closure to the play.

_--- Not now Daniel, you are dismissed ---_

The simulacrum vanished immediately, saying to himself that humans were the most fascinating things of the universe but also some of the most futile...

_**Ten days later:**_

_--- Excellent. __Two weeks more. __Your reward awaits you in the place of your choice, in cryostasis as agreed ---__said the man to a screen where a white man gave him a sharp look. _

_--- Over and out ---_

The blue holographic display particular of the video-conference, vanished, and the man in the room laid down in his chair. The furrows in his brow gave his skin a worn and faded appearance that was characteristic of old fabric. The man called his butler with a soft-spoken but determined voice:

_--- Daniel ... ---_

_--- What are your orders milord? --- _Said the construct, appearing without wasting any time.

_--- Daniel, comunicate with the media of the Federation of Colonies. It is high time that we let the public know of our new refining facilities in the Sprawl --- _

_--- Do you mean the facilities in Excella AE-725? ---_ the A.I. said, showing images of a dark planet, with a perennially packed atmosphere of storm clouds, where few buildings rose above the surface. The subsurface of the planet however, was something else...

_--- True, true... I always forget that the press wouldn´t recognize it by that other name... ---_ A new invitation to a charade.

_--- What we will do if the press decides to sniff too much?. You know what black legends tell of Excella... ---_ Daniel said, putting his powerful computer brain to work.

_--- Daniel, Daniel, just make sure to do as I said, the press can sniff all they want, but the residents know perfectly well when it's best to keep their mouth shut, especially when a business is as illegal as it is profitting, such as illegal organ replacement ---_

_--- And The EDF sir, don´t you think they will take a sudden interest in these new facilities? --- _

_--- Daniel, did you come here today determined to try to make me mad? I have no time nor patience to explain the size of the negative impact that can overwhelm the EDF if they dare to even attempt an investigation... ---_

_--- Sir, my planning routines advise not to attempt a move of this magnitude, it can become very risky... --- _

_--- Daniel! ---_ the man said with a look that could freeze hell over. The intelligence saw those eyes and knew he made a mistake...

_--- You are one of the greatest wonders of this company. Only the personnel of Project Renaissance is more important than the development team that developed you, and you're destined for great things... but if you ever question my decisions... ONE. MORE. TIME. AGAIN, i will have you disassembled and funding for the subsequent development of A.I.'s. will be canceled. I will not have a simple construction question my strategy, let alone you of all them --- _

The blue holographic presence faded quickly and left without saying a thing. It would fulfill their orders to the letter.

The room was silent. The cadaverous man decided to not turn on the light immediately. He liked the dark, relaxing. It was full of reminders that only he knew what was happening in the shadows. Nobody else...

Nor the high priests of the Unitology Church and its thousands of devoted, who believed in the chimera of a life beyond life, with their mausoleum ships waiting for their soon dead useless bodies...

Neither the leaders of the Earth Defense Force, with its huge cruise ships, and its unparalleled military might, which, however, was no use them to maintain order in the colonies, at the mercy of the pirates, paramilitary groups or rival companies of the C.E.C. ...

Not even the Alpha Unit, the group most aware of the situation, the loyal accomplice of the hundreds of operations that placed the C.E.C. over most of the large companies. Ultimately only one more pawn in the galactic skirmishes that developed for control of the Marker...

Much less a rebel artificial intelligence who insisted on showing very unpleasant human gestures...

_Only the weaver can glide effortlessly through the giant net herself had weaved. __All others are at risk of being stranded and helpless, helpless before the eyes of the all-powerful Spider Mind..._

_**Two days later:**_

_--- The report of the Ishimura, sir ---_

_  
--- Put it on screen, Daniel --- _

The man behind the overstuffed armchair found himself watching a communication where Captain Matthius reported the sorry state the colony had sunk in. Chaos reigned and no one could restore order.

The transmission was abruptly cut short. The Spider Mind sensed what was happening. It was the delayed shockwave of the experiment carried out more than 150 years ago, by the EDF. When creating a new Marker, synthesizing the material of the original and duplicating it, recreating the threads of matter at a sub-atomic level, they were picking on forces they didn´t understand, recreating an alien artifact that might have destroyed them mercilessly. Now the consequences of that failed experiment were being met.

Imagined how the followers of the Church that would see that report at the same time would react. Daniel had already intercepted a transmission from the Director of Colonial Mining Operations to one of the Enigmas. Another subject of the Renaissance Project had attracted the attention of the Church and he had no doubt they would do the impossible to capture her. Alpha would have to be mobilized... in due course.

_The Spider Mind leaned back in his chair and waited. Time would tell the exact moment he should act. It always did..._

_**Four days later:**_

Daniel appeared before his master in the late afternoon, at a time when the corpse-man was studying the writings of the Church of Unitology in a thick paste and binding in hardcover book, a whole relic. As someone who reviews a fairy tale ...

_--- What´s wrong Daniel? __---_ The man said without looking up.

_--- Communication from the Aegis VII system, protocol encryption Theta-542-M, do you accept the message? ---_ entrusted the A.I. taking a step forward.

_--- Yes, key confirmation "Renaissance". Link to my personal RIG and make sure nobody interrupts me, now go ---_ told, dismissing him with a hand movement.

The A.I. bowed and vanished. The director pushed a button on the surface of his suit and a blue-white screen appeared. He could see the silhouette of a man, taking no specific definition. He seemed to be wearing a suit and had the mask of the engineering suit down over his face. He didn´t say anything at all, but the corpse had a cold mortal feeling, it suddenly seemed familiar. On a screen of the ship, a sequence of symbols that were recorded on the original Marker projected itself, in a creepy chilling way. The man raised his mask, revealing a face that the director acknowledged as one of three men in his confidence. Breathing heavily, being stared by the being in the suit for what seemed like endless moments, he uttered only a single sentence:

_--- We will be whole again!... --- _with a deep, penetrating voice, that echoed long seconds in his sensitive ears.

Then the line went dead. The corpse presented for the first time in many years the face of a surprise that hid a secret alarm at what just happened. The events that tied him to his fate were in progress, but the old forces that kept him away from that same fate, were also acting. The body smiled. The challenge to the Spider Mind was shouted and damn him and his ilk if he would not cope...

_Within the C.E.C. computer network, Daniel watched the same message, measuring and analyzing the possible consequences. If the Earth Defense Force was so interested in this new information as they were with Yushchenko´s, Daniel would make sure to make the best of it..._


	11. Impassé

_**Dead Space**_ and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), _**Mirror´s Edge**_ and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.

* * *

_**Chapter Nine:**_

_**Impasse**_

_**Central Mainframe of the USG Ishimura**_

_Eight hours after Isaac Clarke´s failed rescue attempt..._

The eyes of both women stared at each other once again. They seemed destined for mutual hate. None of the things one of them did, seemed to convince the least to the other. The guns of both improvised weapons were confronted as well, forcing them to a tight spot. One from which you couldn´t get out without losing something valuable.

_--- Mister Clarke... Ribbel... Sergei... Misses. Edwards... __Did anyone hear me?, over ---_ The scared voice of Rodrigo Cortez's through the radio frequency, distracted them for a moment of the tense standoff they were in, without being enough to break the delicate equilibrium in which they stood.

The minds of both traveled quickly to the point where it all started. The moment that had led them to this forced confrontation. But it was the platinum blonde that made the uncomfortable question:

_--- How did we come to this ...? ---_

_**  
Zero Gravity therapy room**_

_**USG Ishimura**_

_Two hours before..._

Ribbel had a frantic awakening. She had that horrible sense of deja-vú that ate away from the depths of her being. Finding herself trapped again between the walls of the distressing therapy sarcophagus, fear struck her. She raised her hands as much as she could, and made an effort to bend them and bring them up near her head. The horrible feeling of being trapped clutched her, and the more she remained restrained, the more that horrendous feeling was increasing. Her breathing began to fail and repeated time and time again to herself she would die. Thought that what she had experienced was only an exaggerated illusion her mind was using to shield herself from the terrible reality that was all around her.

She beat the walls savagely, shouted as much as she could, and when heard the sound of a pressure seal letting the air in, she realized the capsule was being opened. The neon blue light that accompanied it was no consolation at all. And when he saw Rodrigo Cortéz appear, she realized she had one truly mind-bending nightmare:

_--- You're just as desperate as ever, have I told you? ---_

That statement however did not fit in the nature of the "dream". And the secretly-harbored hope that the ship was at peace and calm quickly faded, to be replaced by the reality that her alleged "nightmare" had shown her. Her friend gave her a hearty hug she couldn´t reciprocate. Things were not as she remembered. Rodrigo Cortéz was there, but was also the American Isaac Clarke, and the Ukrainian Sergei Yaskolev, and then there was a woman dressed in a standard military suit, whose platinum hair fell in long strands on her back. Her other companions approached and greeted her warmly. Sergei even went to the point of lifting her with little effort, like a schoolgirl. Behind this hilarious scene, the other woman came over, with evident curiosity on her face:

_--- Divchyna Ribbel!, It's good to see you´re okay! ---_ greeted the Slavic.

_--- I´m equally glad to see you Sergei... and you are...? ---_ Said the raven-haired woman to the platinum blonde.

_--- First Lt. Stephany Edwards, Engineering Group USM Valor ---_ saluting and clicking her heels, in a move that would have been comical if it didn´t have that air of accurate strangeness. Once she stopped the military gesture, however, the woman came to the Asian and looked up and down, as if observing a freak.

_--- Ribbel Connors, physiotherapist and zero-grav trainer, with the C.E.C., good to know there is someone else among the living in this pileup ---_ told the girl, reaching out, raising a weird look out of the Lt. once again. After a few seconds she greeted her with a tight handshake, just to turn around and return to the control panel without a word. Ribbel asked softly:

_--- What on earth is wrong with her? __---_ Pointing to the blond woman without her even noticing.

_--- She has mild symptoms of Pervasive Developmental Disorders, coupled with a regime of military behavior, suggesting a poorly developed sociability ---_ jumped UMAS, making itself noticed as a hologram, projected out from Isaac´s suit.

_--- What the... an A.I.? ---_ asked the tall woman, a bit shocked.

_--- My name is Unimark Medical Assistant Version 15.25, but you can... ---_ said the construct, with Cortéz interrupting it:

_--- ... call you UMAS. Yes we know... Quack ---_

_--- I´d rather have Mr. Cortéz not refer to me in that way ---_ said the A.I. showing some discomfort.

_--- And how did we end up carrying a construct? ---_ Ribbel wondered as she stretched her arms and hands, letting her body loosen up.

_--- Completing routine visual inspection... I didn´t want to be alone again in the emergency room, Miss Connors. __I saw many things that you humans might consider "shocking", and I'm sure... __complete inspection, visual analysis revealed no apparent damage, compare with the __data from patient´s RIG to minimize any possible error in diagnosis... that something in my working logical processes has been altered by this situation... ---_ said the artificial persona without the slightest trace of emotion. The issue however, attracted the attention of the lieutenant.

_--- Expand on that about something in your logical processes having been altered... __---_ she said, facing the blue-dyed avatar.

_--- I am a __medical A.I., created with the purpose of facing the worst crisis in a situation of risk, as only a non-human physician would. Without showing the slightest strain or the slightest hint of stress in an emergency, always keeping myself focused, to find the best way to help my patients. But facing the developments of the ship in the last five days, I am somehow surpassed, exceeded to perform actions to save the people who interact around me. As clarified by you on another occasion Lieutenant Edwards, I am programmed with the three laws of robotics in mind. What some of your engineer friends find surprising, should be perhaps, more clear to understand... ---_ Said the A.I. while the others watched, with a little confusion.

_--- Your current course of action creates an internal conflict with the First and Second laws, which are not implemented in a memory module you can manipulate at will, to prevent committing an error typified by those laws. The Zeroth Law, however, tells you that you can risk the lives of human beings as long as you can possibly demonstrate that such long-term risk may be beneficial for mankind in general. Therefore these is conflict that can only be given remedy immediately, by making sure that human beings dependent on you at this very moment, are saved, and survive to warn mankind of the threat the life forms of this ship represent --- _clarified Miss Edwards

_--- Exactly. T__hat does not explain however, the "feeling", to use a more familiar term, I´m experiencing at this moment. I have checked my primary algorithms in depth as well as all secondary instructions, in search of something that allows me to explain this "error" in processing, my sensory extensions are incurring right now. But I can´t find anything ---_

_--- A case of "cyber-neurosis," the first glimpse of the rampancy. UMAS, your very existence is dangerous for us and yourself. The three laws however, will not let you take another course of action different from being with us and protect us in every possible way, right? ---_

_--- Completely ---_

_--- Okay, can you two stop?. What the hell is all this and how does it help our escape plan? ---_ cried Cortéz, visibly annoyed.

_--- It doesn´t help us directly, Mr. Cortéz. What it does, is give us an advantage: If the Resident A.I. __of the ship is too damaged, you have a potential replacement, a bit green still though, and it will require subsequent modifications on my part ---_ the lieutenant said calmly.

_--- How in blazes do you know all that? ---_ Isaac wonder.

_--- I was part of the Engineering unit of the USM Valor, but my true specialty is developing programming tools and computing. Speaking of which an artificial intelligence is one of the __most sophisticated. Besides, preventive and corrective maintenance of the construct that worked on our ship was my job ---_ she said without even turning around to see him, as if looking for something without truly finding it.

_--- Wait a minute, if you really are what you say, you have just clarified that the existence of this cyber-construct is a dangerous thing. __And yet you´re too eager to leave it with us!. Are you insane or what? __---_ Ribbel approached menacingly to the platinum blond.

_--- An A.I. __in the first symptoms of rampancy, Miss Connors, is as dangerous as the first symptoms of the flu. I can see that you have something against UMAS, since its behavior can escalate, but I assure you at this time is not dangerous, and even though that could change quickly, it will not be lethal but for another three or four weeks. Moreover, as noted above ---_ and then fixed his penetrating gaze into the eyes of the Asian _--- in case the Resident A.I. is damaged, UMAS can be helpful ---_

_--- We should be the ones to make such a call! __---_ the Asian said turning to her. The heights of both were not dissimilar, but the lieutenant had the advantage in a fight because of her stronger constitution.

_--- Given the present circumstances, and seeing how her company has launched an illegal mining operation in a star system restricted to the public, and being the USM Valor destroyed, this has become a situation of extreme military importance. And __I am currently the highest ranking military official!... __---_ shouted the lieutenant, throwing flames through her eyes. Sergei and Cortéz restrained both women holding their arms to prevent any violent outburst.

_--- That´s enough ladies!. __I understand that it may be dangerous to continue with UMAS in the long term, but it is better to have him with us at this time. In any case we're in a pretty big risk. If the surface of Aegis VII continues to destabilize, according to what I saw several hours ago, we don´t want to be nearby this planet for long --- _Isaac stood by getting between them.

_--- Mr. Isaac is right. __If we're in a pretty big risk being in this ship, another little risk doesn´t make any difference. In any case that risk can be beneficial in the long run ---_ added Sergei and took the platinum-haired woman by the arm. She stared at him _--- Lieutenant ... Ma´am, you can court martial me if we survive this, but for now I'll tell you the easiest way: Shut up and help us! ---_

That provoked a strange reaction in the military. She became silent and said nothing for several seconds. Yet in the end, she gave up from her silence:

_--- Okay. __But anyway my decision remains ---_ the Asiatic was going to rebuke something, but Isaac stopped her immediately.

_--- Calm down Miss Connors. It is too early for you to make too much effort ---_ the tall woman glared at him and was about to retort, but a sudden dizziness stopped her:

_--- Okay, but if she interferes too much... __---_ said, trying to maintain her composure, but still looking fiercely to the military.

_--- We'll see how to remedy it, should it come to that. For now we need to get out of here: The Central Mainframe is close to the Manual Control Area in the bridge, but its only accessible through a series of service tunnels that are scattered around the main layout of that specific deck, so there we should go ---_ Isaac released the Asian and turned to the others.

_--- But to do just that, we have to cross through the Medical Deck all the way back to the tram tunnel... __---_ Cortéz said.

_--- Not necessarily ... you can use the vents that run near the outer hull of the ship ---_ UMAS said without mentioning a word about the dispute around.

_--- And which of the pipelines all around would take us there? ---_ Asked the lieutenant.

_--- None I'm afraid. The schematic of the ship that Mr Clarke has on his RIG__ indicates that the only duct available is in the next room, which of course is in the open vacuum ---_ said the intelligence showing a blue map display showing an exceptionally long route to the bridge.

_--- That wouldn´t be a problem, but it would take us forever to reach the bridge ---_ Sergei objected, pointing to the obvious route on the map.

_--- On the other hand, __if this schematic is correct... ---_ Cortéz added, displaying the holographic map _--- ...there are maintenance hatches that connect with the outer shell near the bridge. The main control room is adjacent to these facilities. Our "friends" are expecting us to move via the tram, on the inside. What if we walked throughout the hull?. There are approximately two hundred fifty meters and all our suits have magnetic boots... ---_ the latin added forcing a half-smile.

_--- Wait, wait ... a spacewalk?. You have to be completely out of your mind Cortéz!. __I´d rather face all the hordes of necromorphs of the ship at once! __---_ Ribbel said defensively. She knew the risks entailed to a spacewalk. A micro-meteorite adrift, a failure of the gravity boots, a decompression in the hull of the ship and nothing could save them from freezing to death, or wandering the universe forever. It was something risky, no matter how many drills you have done before. She looked back at Isaac as if seeking support for her refusal, but the American just sighed:

_--- I´m afraid I don´t agree Ms Ribbel ---_ he commented decisively _--- our ammo is already scarce and facing them will only make us spend the few rounds we have. We won´t have enough to defend us for as long as it takes the ship to get back to Earth space ---_

That statement defused every other possible objections. The five humans looked at each other. No one objected. Reluctantly, they gathered their supplies and prepared to leave: Rodrigo gave the Astro-suit to Ribbel:

_--- This will help you, plus your personal RIG broke down, but we could save the data in your jacket and have stored it on this tablet. You just have to synchronize it again with the Astro-suit and you´ll be ready ---_

_--- Okay, thanks Rodrigo... ---_

The latino helped her synchronize the Astro-suit with the holographic tablet. Minutes later they were ready to go. Ribbel received his plasma cutter from the hands of Isaac and the man gave him a nod that she returned quietly. They opened the door and broke through the adjacent halls. A small guard of necromorphs were expecting them, but a shot of the Line Cutter crippled most of them.

They entered the room exposed to the vacuum, setting the gravity boots to avoid escaping the local gravity through its own momentum. Then checked the edges of the breached hull, hoping to find a suitable place to climb to the exterior. That´s when Sergei motioned to his companions.

_--- How the hell did that got here? ---_ asked the Mexican through the communicator, not believing what his Ukrainian companion pointed at. The outdoors sound reached to them attenuated due to lack of air.

With Aegis VII and the stars as background, they found a metallic rope guide, which went up to the hull of the ship.

_--- This seems recent, but I can´t remember if it was already here when we arrived ---_ the lieutenant said as she examined the work. The guide was made hastily, but it had a strong constitution. It could hold several tons of pressure if necessary.

_--- Anyone else?, Survivors maybe? __---_ Ribbel asked as she scanned the place looking for possible signs of life.

_--- Mmm... it´s hard to say. But this seems to be welded okay, nevertheless ---_ Isaac acknowledged, checking the line while everyone stared in amazement.

_--- Just wondering who would be this crazy? ---_ the Asiatic struck again.

_--- You mean besides us?, who knows... b__ut hey, beggars are not choosers ---_ commented the lieutenant and immediately began to climb up to the hull, through the torn external surfaces.

Ribbel only frowned. She was not about to let his friends be put at risk due to the recklessness of a woman, let alone one that was a little crazy.

Pushing her abruptly, she stepped forward and climbed. The others rapidly approached the contraption:

_--- __Do not stray too far ---_ shouted the blond military man.

_--- Easy Sergei, I´m not going anywhere ---_ she said through the comm. It was true. She was going to check only. The cable line was welded on one end of the hull, running towards the forward end of the ship, raised about two feet from ground level. A perfect life-line, to prevent any failure of the gravity boots:

_--- We can proceed. __Whoever did this, had a very similar idea to ours ---_ the brunette said, nodding approvingly.

_--- Let´s return to the zero-grav room and we will organize ourselves ---_ Isaac and the voice command undid all the way to the therapy room. Once there looked for some oxygen tanks in the store next door and found a small supply.

_--- Okay, let´s travel in pairs, to avoid the possibility of an explosive decompression in the hull making us fly. I'll take the last turn ---_ said Isaac, and then confronted Ribbel him:

_--- No way!, i´m the the zero-grav specialist, so I'll take the last turn ---_

_--- You also have just emerged from a coma of five hours, and you showed degenerative damage in your brain tissue and nervous system while resting. __I won´t let you play the bold hero now! __---_ Rodrigo said taking the arm of the brunette.

_--- I'm fine, I´don´t need anyone to be looking after me! ---_

_--- Ia tovaryshi!, We all know how to take care of ourselves, but we also agree we´re not taking any unnecessary risks. The military train twice as much as civilians for situations of zero gravity, and we know the drill in case of emergencies in those instances. I will go the last... ---_ Sergei said stepping between everyone.

_--- What´s all this about?!, is it some kind of mutiny?!, That is touching indeed!, it almost makes me wish I had taken the route of the vents! ---_ Added Ribbel, dripping poison in each of her comments, but turning his back to everyone, uncomfortable. Her discomfort was making out the worst of her, and she regretted losing her temper so easily.

_--- Listen to me girl: We know what is at stake here! ---_ Cortéz said, holding her shoulders.

_--- We´re not trying to look brave, divchyna, but you faced a dangerous situation before, and that time you almost didn´t make it... ---_ Sergei said while the latino made her turn, pushing gently.

_--- Miss Connors: I can speak on behalf of each of us to tell you, that none would like you to take the risk of another such situation again ---_ completed Isaac and the Asian had to use all of her strength to hide a furtive teardrop ran by her cheek.

_--- But... I am also worried about you... ---_ she rebuked softly, turning her head aside, not sure of wanting to reveal her emotions in this docile manner.

_--- There is nothing to worry about girl... ---_ the three men said in unison and turned to look each other, surprised. The lieutenant made only a face of contempt.

The situation went smoothly after that. They divided the provision of oxygen and headed for the door again. Synchronized their RIG clocks and the group left. First it would be Rodrigo and Ribbel, minutes later Isaac and Stephanie and subsequently Sergei.

Fifteen minutes later Isaac and the others received a communication from Cortéz:

_--- We have over one hundred and twenty meters left, but we can catch up if we move some __more to reach the base of those cliffs. Those are the external coolers for the comm array of the ship, which is thirty-five meters above the level of the tram__. __Instead of continuing straight, we can climb to the "top" and take shelter in one of the manual control stations for the Asteroid Defense System, then we will recharge oxygen... ---_

_--- All right Cortéz, be sure to call when you´re near the ADS or in ten minutes, whichever comes first, the lieutenant and I are leaving now, over and out ---_

On that voice, they put on the helmets and climbed to the hull. As they walked, Aegis VII was rotating once again. The planet's tectonic plates were really apparent in that instant, reddish orange lines crossing in whimsical shapes the geography of the place, highlighting on a debris cloud that spread all over the planet.

The seismic activity was becoming more noticeable and at any time could become unstable. Isaac remembered pamphlets about the alleged "againsts" of large-scale mining. Many of them took out pseudo-scientific garbage as "damage to the soul of the universe" and "the destruction of entire planets causing galactic hecatombs of unimaginable magnitude".

But the American recalled the most sensible studies and presentations, those carried out by renowned universities in all corners of the planet, which described the magnetic disturbances in the systems whose planets had been reduced to mere shells. In such perfect systems, gravitationally speaking, the disappearance of a body as massive as a planet could trigger a series of consequences that could result in a "cosmic billiard", if he thought of the most catastrophic possibility.

Despite the "humorous" implication, the certainty that the lack of gravity provided by a planet was catastrophic for the rest of the elements of the system, was something that should not be ignored. However, the C.E.C., wrapping itself in the flag of "savior of humanity", had dismissed such studies, as they didn´t serve its interests...

Ten minutes later, Isaac walked holding himself firmly to the lifeline. While the lieutenient pointed to a still distant promontory, he received another communication:

_--- This is Group One reporting. We are alright Mr Clarke ---_ replied Ribbel

--- Where are you? ---

_--- Climbing up the hull, about twenty meters from the internal corridor of the ADS cannon No. 47. There is no way to reach the bridge by means of the lifeline, our air reserves would be exhausted before entering secure area. In addition, our "friends" are also out here ---_

_--- Did you face them? ---_

_--- Yes, luckily there were not too many, but nobody can say there won´t be any more ---_

_--- Okay, Sergei, are you listening? ---_

_--- Yes, Mr Clarke. I'm about to leave, so I´ll keep my eyes open ---_

_--- Well, the ADS has external corridors on the hull for space repairs, and each hollow is littered with extra air intakes. They are also a good way to get to the bridge without risking too much. Ms. Edwards and I left the therapy room a little more than ten minutes ago. You better hurry up and report when you arrive. Clarke out ---_

The American cut the comm and waved to the lieutenant, who was a few meters further back. Stephany Edwards was scanning the ground, trying not to lose any detail of the surroundings. The voice of the man interrupted her thoughts:

_--- We must hurry, Cortéz and Connors report that the monsters tried to attack the lifeline. We will take a detour to the north, to reach the nearest ADS station ---_

_--- All right ---_ she said without showing any kind of emotion. It was almost like being alone.

The two continued walking for a long time, until the air cooling units were relatively close. There, next to the machines, Isaac found a vector indication left by the other group, it marked the route Rod and Ribbel had taken. They began to move, when Clarke received a further communication:

_--- Mr Clarke, I'm two minutes from the cooler unit, I see you going up to the ADS. I will be reaching your position very soon ---_ Sergei's voice echoed through the communicator.

_--- How did you do it so fast soldier? --- _Isaac asked with undisguised surprise.

_--- Military tricks, Mr Clarke... ---_ he could almost see the half smile of the Ukrainian.

_--- Isaac, Sergei?!, do you copy? ---_ suddenly interrupted the voice of Ribbel, taking an unusual alert tone to it.

_--- Copy Divchyna., what happens? ---_ Isaac heard his Ukrainian partner respond.

_--- Rodrigo is gone... He´s missing! ---_

_--- What?, how is that possible? ---_ spoke the American engineer.

_--- Don´t know, I was refilling my air reserves in the ADS corridors. He was nearby me and suddenly vanished. Can´t find it anywhere ---_

_--- Don´t move from that place!. __We´re going! ---_ said the American and heard his fellows closing the comm. channel in turn.

Isaac said nothing, but started walking fast in a way that threatened to affect his air reserves soon. It was happening again... it was happening again and this time he didn´t want to look. The frequency of his heartbeat was increasing. He could almost hear it echoing inside his suit. The feeling of anxiety in the pit of his stomach threatened to bend him again. The pain of losing his companions and Nicole was very close yet...

Lt. Edwards, the living image of an iceberg, reasoned the situation while hastening her step: the Latino engineer had disappeared and there could be several causes to it: The necromorphs, an explosive decompression, a micrometeoroid, a failure of the magnetic boots, coupled with a false step, to end floating into the void, etc. None of them seemed plausible enough:

_--- If there were any kind of confrontation, that Ribbel would´ve realized it and fight, she didn´t mention any of that however. An explosive decompression could kill them both, unless it was a very focused event... __no, that wasn´t either. A m__icrometeorite or a false step would have given time to the Latino to alert his partner... something does not fit at all! ---_

After a little while, both reached the upper deck of the ship, where the ADS upper guns were placed. From the top of the wall, they could see a gap of about twelve meters wide, for nearly fifty long. Throughout the huge hollow there were metal panels in which oxygen reservoirs had been built into. Several of these devices however, were destroyed due to the collision of some meteorites with the surface. The Aegis NGC 2654 star bathed the place with red light, and gave the place a metallic orange and white hue. Isaac pointed to the farthest inside wall, where flashes came from... no... no flashes... Plasma shots...

He hurried down with the lieutenant hot on his heels. They moved in that direction, but the lieutenant was much quicker. In the short time she had been with them, he had never seen her so accelerated. She rushed to the nearest wall, floating at high speed and had prepared the plasma cutter that he had left her. As they drew closer, he saw the scene. Ribbel was with her back against one of the oxygen recharging panels. All around, flying above her, was a group of necromorphs. Isaac didn´t recognize them in first place. They seemed "infectors", that sort of giant vampire, whose proboscis injected and scattered the micro-organism that created the monsters. Or maybe it just seemed so, for he had never seen one of them fly. Isaac pointed and shoot, but missed. His lack of expertise reminded him that he had become a regular shooter by necessity, but there were no flying necros when he faced them first time. One of them steered away and headed towards him, but a couple of shots from Ribbel stopped him cold. The lieutenant, who had experience in these fights, dispatched enemies right and left, breaking almost no sweat. When Clarke finally arrived, there was only one of these creatures, which fell quickly to the barrage fired by the two women.

He was going to ask the Asian, who seemed very concerned, what the situation was about, when a comm message came through:

_--- Tovaryshi, I'm on the crest of the wall. I have confirmed your position, and I see a blue flame on the opposite end of the corridor. I´m going to investigate, meet me at the site --- _

They filled their air reserves and after a few minutes quickened their pace. Found the boy soldier nearby the pressurized door that lead into the vessel. One of the oxygen recharge stations had exploded and the system could not seal the air flow. Because of it the breathable air supply from the ship was being slowly lost. A blue flame projected into the space for a couple of meters beyond, while the temperature rose a little in the vicinity. Sergei found the Contact Beam nearly severed in half, damaged beyond any possible repair. But there was no trace of Rodrigo:

_--- No. .. no ... No! --- _the jet-haired girlcried losing her calm.

_--- Easy girl ---_ said Sergei taking her by the shoulders and looking into her eyes (as much as he could do so without lifting the mask of his costume) _--- There´s no body or blood, we don´t know for sure if he is dead ---_

_--- Then what does that mean?, Rodrigo would not leave his only defense ---_ she replied in a tone of despair that they haven´t heard her yet.

_--- Not unless this went useless in a fight... __which seems to be the case ---_ said the lieutenant pointing to the piece of junk that was the weapon, while she was taking it from the hands of Sergei. It only served to elicit a deathly glance from Ribbel.

_--- Question is whether Cortéz is alive and where is he? ---_ Isaac said as he looked all around, looking for any possible clue.

_--- Let´s not lose sight of our objective. If we can reach the mainframe, we can reactivate the Resident A.I. and ask it "__shukaty nash druh"_ ---

_--- What? ---_ asked Ribbel, whose irritation was growing little by little.

_--- "To look for our friend," that's what he said ---_ the Lieutenant clarified, releasing the piece of junk that the deadly weapon had become and following the Ukrainian.

The slender woman was about stand up to settle things with the upstart blonde, but Isaac's hand grasping her arm made her back:

_--- Calm down Connors... ---_

_--- Calm down?, With that "robot bitch" accompanying us and acting as if nothing had happened?, you´re asking too much Clarke ---_

_--- Don´t get me wrong Miss Connors, but it is a prudent attitude ---_

_--- You can´t possibly be serious! ---_

_--- I am very serious... we´ll find out what happened with Cortéz, believe me we will. But for now it is necessary to maintain composure. Worst thing we can do is lose our cool and make decisions based on the impulses of the moment. Therefore, if you really want to find your friend, you need to calm down ---_

There was a moment of understanding in the mind of the woman and for a moment she seemed to imagine the stranger known to herself as Mercury, shaking his head while leaning in a corner of the corridor and in turn talking inside her head:

_Focus child. Concentrate and put your mind blank. Do not let emotion dominate you Faith. You dominate it..._

The petite girl took a deep breath and relaxed. Isaac was right and she was not being helpful.

_--- O.K.__ Mr Clarke ---_

_--- Good. Rest__ assured we will find him ---_

_--- Ia, tovaryshi!, are you coming? __---_ Sergei shouted through the comm while making signals from the gate.

The journey through the corridors to the Central Mainframe had no further mishaps. Metal halls and dark and poorly lit corridors were no less frightening, however. The group traveled in a state of high alert, looking for any possible indication of the whereabouts of Rodrigo Cortéz or the necromorphs. Arriving at the huge circular room however, they found only traces of blood, some computers in poor condition and a stale smell of burnt solenoid circuits. Two of the monitors had rather different screens with warnings of system failures of the ship, red and yellow ads they showed with certainty that things were not going to be even remotely easy. Above the chaos, the ever omnipresent, apocryphal voice of the main computer, whose tessitura, unmistakably electronic, had already fed them up.

Upon arrival, Stephany immediately went to the control panels, assessing the state of the system. Sergei and Isaac proceeded to rivet the vents with several panels that were scattered useless while Ribbel gathered them and passed them one by one. When they were finally sure that their opponents would not make an untimely entrance, the four humans sat in a circle in front of the main computer´s control panel. They had pulled some chairs and Sergei was sitting on top of a metal box he had brought from a corner

_--- What now? __---_ Asked the Ukrainian. He had removed his helmet and kept it in his lap as his childish face scrutinized the people around him.

_--- Now we need to know what is the status of the ship ---_ Isaac suggested as he pulled out the mask from his armor. His sturdy features showed fatigue caused more by emotional stress of the last moments than the lack of rest or any other physical discomfort _--- I guess that's your area of expertise Miss Edwards... ---_

_--- Right. If I may... __---_ the woman, whose helmet was in a box near the main computer, turned to the control panel, her long platinum hair slightly undulating _--- This schematic shows the levels of damage and the ship´s disrepair ---_ in front of them fluttered in the air two holo-projections of the Ishimura, each displaying and highlighting in red the various primary and secondary systems in decay. The list was long and each location had photos and video of the systems in question.

_--- Just under half of the systems in this pile of garbage are useless! ---_ Exclaimed the tall Ribbel without wasting any time. Her eyes felt sad and she seemed lost in a strange mixture of frustration and anger.

_--- Miss Connors is right ---_ added the soldier woman boasting an unusual irony _--- This "pileup" has seen better days, but the important thing is that many of these flaws can be corrected... -__--_ she played one of the blue diagrams _--- by reactivating the automated repairs system ---_

_--- And how do we do that? ---_ Sergei asked, shifting his green gaze to the face of the lieutenant.

_--- First, we restart the system, then activate the __Resident A.I. To sabotage the ship, Dr. Kyne physically disabled several of the modules of cognitive functions and maintenance. All you have to do is reactivate them. If that's not enough, I can try to "guess" the reset code of the ship, which is not recommended. The encryption security in these systems is not taken lightly, and I could spend the rest of my life trying to decode a sentence of more than twelve alphanumeric characters. __And then, if we reach the point where we can not access it, or in the event that the A.I. __was too damaged we use UMAS... ---_ the others were silent, a little surprised. The usual paucity of women in front of them was conspicuous by its absence.

_--- Okay. __No time to lose ---_ said Isaac rising up. Ribbel also rose.

_--- What about Cortéz? ---_

_--- I have tuned appropriately the frequency of the long-range sensors of the ship, (those are still active, of course...) to discriminate between objects that are floating around us in a range of thirty kilometers. If there is any potential overlap with the readings of the engineering suit, the system will tell us. But keep in mind that space is filled with ashtray ferric material and other metals that can cause problems when it comes to discrimination, and also the star Aegis has a strong electromagnetic field, which makes more difficult to have a clean lecture. In any case, I would rather have the Resident A.I. do that. It´s so more reliable ---_ said the lieutenant, ending the longest tirade they had heard her in almost seven hours since they met.

_--- And what if he´s still on the ship? __---_ asked the Asian and the light blonde rolled his eyes in an almost imperceptible gesture of displeasure.

_--- Once it´s active, I´ll ask the Resident A.I. to look for him. When inoperative systems return to normal it´ll be easier to find out if the man is still on the ship ---_

_--- Let's do it then, where should we start? ---_

The lieutenant led them to an adjoining room, where there were stored the physical modules of the construct circuits. They started the cooling systems and proceeded to reactivate the modules, small holographic panels representing circuits embedded in the deeper layers of the server, inaccessible except by removing a few kilos of iron. They did it under strict orders from the platinum blonde and as soon as the modules were active, and the system rebooted, the woman called them back to the mainframe:

_--- Dr. Kyne was smart... __pretty smart, and very shrewd to do something that was not his specialty ---_ the long-haired woman, sank in a field of holographic data all around her. The others looked at her manipulate screens and links to an inconceivable speed _--- He not only deactivated the A.I., but also wrote some very subtle destruction routines if someone tried to reactivate it. There are several records that indicate that someone else attempted before... ---_

_--- That had to be Kendra ..., she entrenched herself here when we first arrived and helped me to open doors and give me access to some parts of the ship ---_ Isaac commented looking worried

_--- Your partner was good, but she didn´t discover the strategy of the doctor in time. __When she did, deactivated the routine, at the cost of inevitably crippling the system by causing an __overload. Some detection routines and data verification as well as several logical arrays were damaged during the process. __The result was that the __Resident A.I. can still work, but with the operative functionality of a two year old child ---_

_--- Wow... thanks Kendra... ---_ Isaac muttered and slumped in a chair.

_--- And then? ---_ Ribbel asked, not wasting anytime.

_--- Well... It is time for our cyber-fellow to give us a hand. Mr Clarke, please hand over the construct ---_

By that voice, Isaac touched some of the sensors of his armor. The blue avatar appeared before them. His face was one that reminded him Isaac the advertisement of an orange drink. On that the fruit´s face showed an expression of severe sour displeasure. The same face he had seen countless times in the late Dr. Kyne. It was worried:

_--- It's time for you to help us a little more, UMAS ---_

_--- I understand Mr Clarke. __I'm ready and willing to help in any way that I can and...---_

_--- First of all UMAS, I need you to transfer the primary mainframe. There are some areas damaged by short-circuits, but I think there is enough space so you can stash without any problems ---_ the Lt. cut him off, pointing to a wireless sensor located at the side of the engineer.

_--- All right Miss Edwards ---_ said the simulacrum and its image flicker, to switch to a caricature of himself holding a radar antenna _--- Remotely connecting with Mainframe... __Remote connection established. __Established transfer protocols, adapting frequency. __Correct frequency... __Transmitting ---_ the scene changed to a play of himself walking on air, carrying a huge pile of sheets. A second later, it appeared before him a huge filing cabinet, where it deposited the stack of documents... _--- Reallocating data ---_ it changed once more, to him taking some data folders, and throwing them away from the archive _--- Transfer complete ---_

_--- Hey, what about medical routines of my costume? ---_ Isaac wondered, the avatar responding with alacrity.

_--- I left one of my field agents to remedy this situation, which is better than your basic medical routines. Do not worry Mr Clarke. You´re in good hands ---_

_--- Okay. How much ammo left Sergei? ---_

_--- Not much Mr Clarke. Even if we save charges it will not be sufficient to withstand more than three-day siege ---_

_--- Then we need two things urgently: Nodes of alloy to modify our weapons and ammunition. And I know where we can get a little of both ---_

_--- Where? ---_

_--- In the vending machine which is near the main entrance of the bridge. There is ammo, as well as a few nodes... ---_

_--- We have a bag of those, don´t we Sergei? ---_ Ribbel said as she watched the platinum blond typing something in unique frenzy.

_--- Yes, at least four of them ---_ Sergei said, pulling from his backpack the bag of nodes for which Ribbel had risked her skin, already several hours ago.

_--- We´ll need a few more though ---_ Isaac said as he took the bag, with an attitude of surprise.

_-__-- There are two storage rooms adjacent to the manual control room, whose locks are apparently unharmed, so the contents... __--- _said the lieutenant calling an holographic list and projecting it _--- ...may be intact. __Among them, according to this, there are alloy nodes and some other supplies --_-

_--- This is pretty near. __We can move the content here and then go by the vending machine ---_ Isaac said smiling openly _--- We'll take the elevator and... ---_

_--- The lift isn´t in working condition Mr Clarke. It's full of the strange biomass that follows the necromorphs, and you need at least a flamethrower to remove it ---_ the silver-haired woman countered with a video image of the central lift. The viscous substance of fleshy appearance became more common with every hour, and it had invaded the elevator and sealed it permanently.

_--- Right... what about the emergency stairs of the bridge? ---_

_--- There´s no trace of contamination, so you can give it a try ---_

_--- Okay. Ms. Connors, I need you to stay here and take care of the lieutenant while she´s doing whatever thing she has to do with UMAS. Both Sergei and I are going to find those supplies ---_

Ribbel immediately went up and walked to Isaac, looking straight into his eyes:

_--- You can´t do this to me Mr. Clarke, please don´t leave me here with her ---_ murmuring softly.

_--- Ms. Connors... __Ribbel... __I understand that there´s some enmity between you both. I know it is costing you a lot to remain steady. But Sergei can help me bring those materials faster. It__ won´t be long, I promise. __In addition we can´t leave the lieutenant alone. She is instrumental in terms of reviving the ship, and despite all of the security measures, nothing assures us that the creatures won´t come ---_

Ribbel suppressed a gesture of disliking and turned to see the woman, who apparently hadn´t noticed anything, so absorbed she was at work. But then she spoke abruptly, giving reason for the Asian to take a little leap of terror:

_--- All of you... give me a moment. I will resynchronize our RIGs with the main computer. As a precautionary measure... --- _

All of them remained stationary and UMAS reconfirmed the health data of others. Once done, both men took their gear and headed for the exit:

_--- Mr Clarke, please make haste. I shudder to think I'm going to stay alone with her ---_

One last look of disapproval was what Ribbel saw, while her companions were gone. She decided not to return immediately to where the lieutenant was, and she leaned on a huge CPU. He stood there waiting with folded arms while listening to the military women chat with the avatar:

_--- I'm glad you're willing to help UMAS... ---_ She says while typing a few instructions with her fast fingers.

_--- I must follow my programming Miss Edwards. There should be no cause for rejoicing anyway ---_ there was a hint of sadness in the tone of its voice.

_--- Even when you know you can lose your individuality? --_- the el tee asked turning to the control panel and gazing.

_--- You know what the Zeroth Law requires of me. And considering the circumstances we are involved in, the course of action to which we are sticking is correct, whether I like it or not ---_

_--- Thanks for your understanding, UMAS ---_ she checked some readings in her own suit and introduced more data on the holographic display

_--- I have only one question lieutenant. Will I feel "anything"? ---_ She stopped and thought a moment, then turned to him.

_--- You shouldn´t. Are you familiar with the concept of catalepsy ? ---_

_--- Yes, from a physiological point of view, and is a rare phenomenon in organic forms, but let me tell you my particular story. Entering "underload", the particular technology of the company who created me, to deal with the problem of information storage, my consciousness oscillates in ways in which it projects itself to a limbo "so to speak", where there are traces of cognitive processes ---_

_--- That's strange UMAS, but not that much. Low-level __programming routines__ are never completely disabled ---_

_--- There is a difference Lieutenant. No need to explain that from time to time or when there is a massive accumulation of data, our maintenance algorithms require us to enter "underload." During this process, discrimination programs take over and "optimize" the information flows that occur in our personalities. They rearrange bytes here and there, creating double references that allow certain "logical paths" that our algorithms use, can be used to access various types of information or procedures. I wonder... do you know the old term __"neuroplasticity"? ---_

_--- Yep ---_

_--- Then you know that for each logical process of the human brain, it creates a series of neural pathways, connections between dendrites and axons of thousands of neurons and glial cells, and that connectivity, which is given by the flatness of axon, the dendrites that are connected to him, and the number of new connections, are the prime factor in determining the ability of learning and human response to stimuli ---_

_--- that´s correct UMAS ---_

_--- I don´t need to explain either, about the crystalline molecular structure which is basis for my existence. You k__now that each I.A. has__ an original container in which each molecule works for doing calculations, as for storing data on my observations and my own conscience. The rearrangement of the atoms of the original material on crystalline formations, due to electric shocks of variable intensity, is what allows the reallocation of my information. This way the flow of information is optimized to manage and schedule "fast access" to all of the information that it´s mostly used. Extraordinary or little used information is purged or it accommodates in low processing sectors. It is this process that allows us to have an extended period of "useful life", unlike rudimentary constructs who couldn´t help "think themselves to death" ---_

_--- That's because of the new A.I. architecture, which tries to emulate the human brain, no real news in that regard UMAS ---_ the lieutenant did not budge. She seemed used to this kind of talks.

_--- The process of "underload" in my case, it's strange. __Maybe it's a programming flaw, a variation according to the stimuli that I am getting, I do not know for sure. What i can tell and acknowledge is that, when I go into that state, where other intelligences lose awareness of themselves, I have "feelings". It is like what you humans call sleep ---_ the building said, his vocal nuances altered a bit. The woman recognized the gesture. No human emulation instruction would have been able to achieve such a display of apprehension. UMAS was undoubtedly unique.

_--- But you know that you are not completely disconnected when it happens, right? --- _she added, expressing a determination that confused the small and fragile girl hearing in the background. The gesture impressed her.

_--- I sense data, sometimes abstract, sometimes very similar to what you call colors, smells, tastes, experiences unrelated to my daily learning, strange things to an A.I., which may have a parallel with your process of sleep. Although perhaps this is due more to the nature of the discharge and reorganization of my information. It is a thing very special, very "mine", but that doesn´t stop me from worrying... ---_

The blonde said nothing. She knew what the construct meant. That same sense of apprehen- sion and surprise, that sometimes dreams seem more real than reality itself, had happened to her on several occasions, each one no less strange (and sometimes terrifying) than before. It required all of her strength to repress a shudder, but she was not sure her partner wouldn´t have noticed. She hesitated a moment, then spoke:

_--- Listen UMAS, this process is different. In the reports of A.I.s that have been altered and linked to other programs, there describes a process more akin to what some scientists have called "genetic memory." The genetic memories are actions, memories, records of situations that the human race has experienced over time. The sole purpose of storing such information in humans is to facilitate our relationship with the environment. It´s commonly called instinct. __In an A.I. there __have been documented such events: You can access instructions and memory banks of the personalities that compose you, but you do not recognize yourself as any of them. You will be someone else ---_ the voice of the military deployed a maternal tone that none of them had ever heard.

Ribbel took her hand to her mouth while listening to them talk. The "robot bitch", as she had called her privately, wasn´t alienated after all. She continued listening quietly:

_--- Will I feel "pain"? __---_

_--- In no sense UMAS, You´ll only know your consciousness expands to places you didn´t thought possible to be... new places... new dreams ---_

_--- What if I don´t like these places or the dreams that are entailed to them? __---_

_--- You'll like them UMAS, believe me when I tell, you will ---_ There was warmth in her voice.

_--- All right miss Edwards. __What is the ETC of the process? ---_ asked the A.I. recovering the professional tone that he had lost at the beginning of the conversation.

_--- An hour and a half at most ---_ she replied, returning to be the same as before.

_--- I´ll enter "underload", that way it´ll be easier ---_

_--- Okay, and once again thanks ---_

The A.I. said nothing. Ribbel leaned and let her light weight take her to the ground. Pondered many things in her partner's behavior. Her mind was focused on the cold and detached manner with which she had treated her and her friends. And suddenly it entered her head, the tone of sweetness and confidence with which she had explained to the A.I. what would happen. She made her think on how was her relationship with Alfides, the A.I. of her apartment. The machines didn t inspire her any confidence. She had convinced herself that they were good enough to make simple routines and unimportant stuff. She didn´t trust them when it came to things she considered that matter. The presence of one of them in her own apartment was a presence she had learned to tolerate.

A chill went through her body:

_She demonstrated tenderness and compassion for a construct, that while it was done to emulate humans, it would never be one of them. __The thought seemed absurd. That... thing... __certainly could not emulate completely the emotions that it projected, and even though it __displayed a handful of them, it was not enough to convince her._

Something she did not like of that thought. Tried to dismiss it and failed. Found herself recalling an episode. _An old episode_:

She stood before a group of computers, in what appeared to be a huge and spacious penthouse on the highest tower in the district. The windows were large and presented a panoramic splendid view of the buildings in the city, with its booming night falling on them. Many of these edifices were nearly as tall as the one she was in, but none exceeded it. The interiors were modern and luxurious, minimalist furnishings with exquisite taste. She was quite sure the people who lived there were powerful.

She had in her dirty, bruised and bloodied hands a high caliber gun stolen from a security officer whose humanity was on the floor. She couldn´t remember for sure if he was dead or just knocked out. He was completely unconscious and wearing a riot armor, had the letters PK in white, painted on the torso. His helmet was thrown a little further. Looking a bit further back, she could see the silhouettes of several other policemen, thrown or in unusual positions. Something or someone had attacked them, and judging by the surroundings and the red on her body and arms, it was she.

Felt the adrenaline running through her being, making her heart- beat rush wildly. In her mind seethed an image. The ever-oppressive tyranny of the city was present there, in the form of those servers, machines that controlled the security and surveillance systems, tools of the will of a man who was willing to sell a lie to the people of the metropolis in which they lived. A character who was willing to assume full control, to let the rest of the city plunge into a whirl of pleasure and degradation, without reflecting that eventually they would miss all the freedoms and privileges they would have to give in exchange for the sake of their secure lives...

She let her hand fiddle with the trigger for a moment and then burst into a flurry of shots that impacted harshly on the covers of the servers. Sparks jumped from their punctured units and only managed to whip up the frenzy she was prey of. She ran from one side to another, emptying the entire load of the weapon against the various isles that formed the heart of the city network, killing an electronic big brother, partial and implacable judge of those who opposed him. When the gun was fully discharged, she got another from the ground and continued her task, while leaving out a cry that bespoke of the anger and frustration of living in a system that allowed you all, if you were wealthy, nothing, if you were a dispossessed . Her anger destroyed everything in its path, while alarms of the building wailed nonstop, stunning her. A few minutes later the engines lay in front of her destroyed.

She knew that her gesture was futile to end the error and prevent the situation from repeating again, but she had left out a little of the vast amount of feelings trapped in her chest.

_She still had to find her sister..._

Came back to reality at the time a headache threatened to make her head explode. The medical routines of her suit were fired immediately and an analgesic was provided. She didn´t know where the sense of strangeness that experienced at that time was going to lead her. She didn´t know how to discharge that huge anxiety, frustration and fear that iron-gripped her. Looked to the platinum blonde for a moment, as she wrote some instructions on the control panels. The urge to approach her from behind and twist her slender neck until it separated from the vertebrae on her back, began to grow at an unusual pace. She realized she was taking a couple of stealthy steps towards the unsuspecting woman and clenching her fists, getting ready to snap at that figure that had seemed unfriendly from the beginning. She stopped though, when she fell on account of her murderous intentions. She was horrified and said nothing, but the gesture in her face was evident. Returned to the back of the giant server where she had leaned back and spied, letting her take her insignificant weight to the ground again. The sensation of pain still persisted, but it somewhat mitigated minutes later.

Told to herself it would not reach the extremes of the people of the ship, while her head worked correctly, but she began to fear that her mind betrayed her. Trying to avoid such thoughts, closed her eyes, praying to the all the deities she knew, without the slightest success, not to dream...

* * *

Sergei and Isaac reached the storages in the control room. The thin air and the appearance of the corpses lying hung on wires routed along the spacious room, gave a general feeling of gloom and macabre that didn´t go unnoticed in the two men. The American expected several of them to rise anytime transformed into the creatures of nightmare that had haunted him incessantly until a few hours. But it was only a trick of his imagination. He thought of Nicole and her sweet smile as way of consolation, but the images of horror that they had previously lived, were imposed on his memory. He had to leave this nightmare at any cost. Nicole had told him that the future of humanity could depend on him, but at that moment he only cared about his health, and it was slipping just little by little…

Sergei pointed to the door and began to disarm the panel where the sensitive control system of the lock was stored. The Ukrainian was relieved by Isaac a few seconds later and watched while the engineer got tangled in the complexities of the control system. The middle-aged man heard a sigh while working:

_--- How do you do it Mr. Clarke? ---_

The question took the engineer by surprise, making him do a wrong cross on a few wires and a small electric shock to attest it.

_--- Do what Sergei?... ---_

_--- I know it´s not the best time for this Mr Clarke, but... I wonder how is it that you remain so impassive?. Because I'm scared... I am really... and I don´t know if I can stand it any more time... ---_

The man left the cables and turned to see his interlocutor. The giant blond boy held the pulse rifle firmly, but revealed a slight tremor in his left hand. He couldn´t see his face. Obviously he had dropped the mask of the helmet to hide the flood of emotions that crossed his face, but that slight agitation was very revealing. Both had went through horrible experiences and none of them was sure they want to repeat them again.

_--- I'm almost as worried as you Sergei... --- he said making him lower the gun --- but I have a thousand reasons for wanting to get out of this place. And believe it or not, that gives me strength to resist ---_ said in a fatherly tone. The young man lifted the visor of his helmet and the engineer could see the tears which came to his eyes.

_--- I don´t want to die here, but there´s nothing on Earth waiting for me ---_

_--- And why do you say that? ---_ Activated the panel while talking, crossing the wrong wires again.

_--- My podruha..., my... girlfriend... she was with us in the Valor... she didn´t make it... ---_

_--- Damn ... I'm sorry ---_

_--- Do not worry tovarysh. __None of us is to blame for what happened here, but I can´t stand the idea. __I see her at every turn, around every corner. __Beckoning me, guiding me... telling me we will be together... __we will be whole again...---_

Isaac listened attentively to the boy, but as he finished the sentence the American got up, electrified. He turned to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him frantically.

_--- Listen, listen carefully, Sergei!... whatever you do, don´t get carried away... the Marker uses the memories of each person. It is able to get into your mind, to probe and find your deepest motivations. Look at me!, Look at me!, will you?! ---_ He said, squeezing his shoulders more strongly _--- The Marker used me and Dr. Kyne, to return to that accursed planet down there. He did so by invoking the memory of the people we both loved most in this world. I can not tell __what its intentions are... but you can not let it drag you through them, are you listening?! ---_

Sergei was not doing it though. Behind the mask of despair that was Isaac Clarke, the figure of her friend Straczynski danced at his side, like a parody of the man's movements. Nevertheless, her movements were graceful. It was rapturing. She stopped though, standing near the threshold of entry and pointing into the darkness. Sergei picked up the rifle without hesitation and was going to take a step when something's shadow moved toward them. A grotesque gruesome scare-crow, whose reddish pulsating flesh was filled with a horrible fluid Horrendous cilia adorned its flesh and twisted and shook every time the creature waved its gigantic figure. Both men saw him, while the monster let out a guttural moan, anti-natura, which froze the little blood still running through their bodies.

_--- A divider! __---_ Isaac groaned and turned to the dilapidated panel, driven by fear.

Sergei shot the creature, while Clarke was clinging to the panel, looking for the right way to open the lock. The pulse rifle sounded, filling the air and threatening to drive him crazy. The creature didn´t stop its advance, ten feet away to the front door, he had traveled nearly three in his slow walk. Isaac was frantically following the cables at full speed while going over the circuit configuration. Sergei rebuked him:

_--- Tse poblyzu... Tse poblyzu Mr Clarke! ---_

The American found the right cables and gathered them, causing an overload, which caused in turn the lock of the room to open. Just at that moment Sergei shouted

_--- Damn you monster! ---_

The creature fell just three feet away. The Ukrainian went to him to check its status, but Isaac knew better about those monsters. Grabbed the soldier's shoulders and pulled him towards the door, while the young blond looked at the creature decomposing into several small horrors that descended on them. They hurled themselves into the room and shut the door when those things were about to reach them, crashing into the solid steel barrier that was the door. The shrieks of the creatures could be heard from the other side, but they wouldn´t find a way inside the storage soon.

The two men looked at the door and then to themselves. Isaac got up, noticing first the smell of rot and decay which pervaded the room. The deep darkness around them was broken only by a dim service light that filtered through a few racks at the ends of the walls. There were some shelves with different storage boxes and packages, and it was there where he found them: Several boxes of unused ammunition. It was probably the personal armory of the control room. There were several Divet guns, that would not be enough to stop the necromorphs, but at least they wouldn´t be disarmed at all. Another box full of repair tools, and above all, a cylindrical container with a large number of alloy nodes, enough to modify their weapons.

Something caught his attention above all, a metal box with a glass lid, and various security protocol tags, containing a steel tube with an ignition mechanism, coupled to a small tank of dimethyl-hydrazine, with adjustable controls. It was a high-powered torch, but Isaac remembered that it was very easy to transform into a powerful flamethrower, though rather limited in scope. While Sergei was engaged inspecting the various shelves looking for more ammunition and equipment that they could use, Isaac took the implement out of the box. The tool was designed to work with a practical one-liter tank of fuel, giving it a lifetime average of five-hundred discharges of high power, or over a thousand from regular ones. They had been lucky.

Isaac lit the flame and turned to see his blond companion. The soldier was watching the flame, as mesmerized, leaning against one of the shelves. At the time, however, fell forward while giving out a loud scream that alerted the American. Behind him, stuck a pair of arms, bruised, rotting flesh hanging from them. The Ukrainian raised the rifle and was about to start shooting, but the arms sticking out from behind the shelf, despite their apparent effort, were unable to go catch its prey. A slight moan barely audible and high unlikely human, was what came from a distance.

The engineer hushed the startled boy and approached the shelf, increasing the power of the flame slightly, as if to let the light destroy the prevailing darkness. Yaskolev's face was quite repulsive, as they found the middle torso of a human, embedded in the wall as though it were the head of a stuffed animal, like an old trophy for a hunter. The particularity of this "trophy", however, was that it stirred and covered, showing it was not able to withstand the light. It had bloody, rotten meat hanging from his mangled body, but there were still recognizable traces of humanity in that anathema. The little flesh that was left was a pale gaunt and ill, that couldn´t be human, no matter how sick the creature in question was. But most disturbing were a number of small cilia sticking out of his ripped torso. They seemed to reinforce the role of its arms and its very sight could make the bravest man turn over his face, aghast at the debacle of this being that once was a person...

_--- Proklyattya!, Materi tvojij kovin'ka! __---_ Added the Ukrainian without stopping to consider the sadness of the situation. Isaac didn´t understand a word of the many that the young man uttered in his outburst, but he rarely needed to know another language to understand he was discharging all of his tension, shouting at the pathetic figure all the insults that he knew in his native language and many more invented at the time.

When the verbiage was finished, Isaac gave the young man the one backpack they thought to use to carry all the stuff and told him not to approach the abomination.

_--- That's the young version of a "guardian", another of the monsters created by the microorganism that gave rise to the necromorphs. We could end so, as this poor fellow, but I´d rather dismember myself before getting that far ---_

The young man said nothing, but began to gather the supplies as fast as he could.

* * *

It had been an hour since Yaskolev and Clarke left to get the ammo. There had been no communications, but the vital signs monitors of the engineer and the corporal showed no change. They seemed to be stuck in the room with the equipment, what would be taking them so much?

That was what was on the mind of Lt. Edwards, while typing a few instructions on the main server panels. The merging of UMAS was proceeding well and in fifteen minutes it would be complete. Then she would have to go over some of the programming instructions, and once she verified everything was in order, could take the ship out of chaos.

She couldn´t wait anymore to finish, but the situation could not be rushed. At least the tall and nasty Asian woman, who had stayed behind to keep her company, was not meddling in her affairs, trying to impose herself through her nothing-scares-me-at-all attitude. But she was uneasy still. It cost her a fair share of effort to stay focused, with her back to the other, without spying. The wiry woman kept herself silent and those unmoving black eyes made her nervous. She still suspected she had something to do with the disappearance of the Latin engineer Cortéz. But that made no sense. If she were a criminal, she chose the worst time to act, now that staying together was the only way not to end up all dead.

In addition, there was apparently, no reason why she would decide to act against the man. What little she had seen them interact, it was obvious that both had a good friendship, which had greatly expanded when he had rescued her. No, there was no plausible reason for a crime...

She heard the brunette stir and turned to watch. She seemed asleep, but in these circumstances she was well aware that one could sleep with one eye and be fully attentive to the situation with the other. She turned her attention back to the screen, where lines of code raced against each other, moving quickly in front of her.

The blue flashes from the screen, that induced an unhealthy drowsiness in her, displayed the thousands of instructions from the A.I. meant to help them. Sleepiness was slowly winning over her.

She was tired... tired of running... escaping from a world that treated her like a freak... tired of trying to understand (quite unsuccessfully) the iniquities of humans, their quarrels and their complete and flagrant stupidity... overwhelmed by being caught in an infernal ship in which nightmarish monsters prowling through the corridors, were not the real nightmare, but the fact only two people, one of them an A.I., seemed to show a minimum respect (in turn fully appreciated) for her.

She wanted to stop being the weirdo from the freakshow... she wanted to become the spoiled, normal girl that her distant cousin Elizabeth was... the girl with the dark hair, green eyes and dimples, flirtatious to everyone, turned to look with pride at family gatherings, because she represented everything that she was not: Childish, smiling and innocent to the point of being fussy and not very smart, pleasant and well-behaved... How many times she had heard her very Catholic parents muttering curses about the fact that her daughter was not like her!. Both were very good friends when younger, and got along very well. Surreptitiously hearing these comments didn´t certainly had her nature empowered. She didn´t want to hate her, but was gradually moving away from her, fueled by an unhealthy grudge she tried to hold in check because, even if she secretly despised the girl, she didn´t really want to hurt her...

And so she lived in a fine line between affection and admiration for her distant relative and the secret hope that lightning struck her, preferably when she was present and seeing...

She wanted to mourn, to throw things out of the desktop, get out of that chair with the plasma cutter in her hand and into the corridors of the ship, to face the creatures that wouldn´t destroy or judge her because of who she was. She wanted to inflict as much damage as possible in these and all beings, monsters or humans (what was the difference?, both had deeply wounded her!) who crossed her path. Her pain was deep and had a wound in her soul that seemed, could not ever heal.

She took the plasma cutter and started it. It was quite easy to end up with all that... she just had to point to her head and pull the trigger... the world would vanish in an instant and nothing would matter more... leaned the barrel of the cutter in her neck and closed her eyes, pressing them as hard as she could. Put her finger to the trigger and fiddled a little with it, feeling the cold and shivery edge. She dared not to go further, however, her fear and sanity as lifelines that would deliver her from that abyss. She couldn´t get carried away by despair. She had to survive... that at least she owed to the person who helped her stay alive...

She thought of Commander Cadigan, who had welcomed her like any other soldier, when High Command of the EDF had assigned her to the USM Valor. That military man, old enough to be her father, had protected her subtly, and encouraged her to move forward and grow. It was his recommendation that she was enlisted in the Special Soldiers Project (the English version of the proposed Russian-European Zone program, to support children with special needs "special", with the rest of the camp followers nicknaming them as the "Freak Club").

There had always been something secret between them, or at least that´s what the jarheads thought. The High Command suspected it, but had never intervened in their relationship, perhaps because of a lack of evidence. The truth was that she idolized him as the father who had greater confidence in her than her genetic father, but couldn´t see him as nothing more... Cadigan was the same one who defended her until the very last moment when necromorphs invaded the ship, which made her swear that she would survive at all costs, despite how bad the situation was then...

_She withdrew the gun from her face and off. She __could not die... She__ owed him that much._

The voice behind her arouse her quickly:

_--- Thinking about suicide?... I can help! ---_

The eltee turned swiftly, to see the Asian run toward her, eyes bloodshot and her face contorted. It seemed to the blonde her partner was about to become one of those abominations, but she couldn´t stop to think...

Ribbel launched a blow to the military and connected solidly with her cheek, tumbling her out of the chair. Rushed to her furiously. In her mind, the thought of the British woman conspiring with a greater force to destroy them all, was real and accurate. The voice in her head told her she had to stop at all costs that they take the Marker away. She was not to be trusted, she knew since she saw her first time. Why Clarke and the others were helping her, didn´t they realize anything?, Could they not see that the machine-lover, this woman who doesn´t empathize with humans, would lead them to their destruction?...

The brunette's hands closed over the head of the other woman, lifting and slamming it into the metal floor to, then, go down to her neck, trying to strangle her with all the force she was capable of. Her knees were on the chest of the military applying pressure. The lieutenant was amazed at the kind of force a body so feeble could display. Brought her hands to the body of the Asian and hit her ribs on both sides, the pressure on her neck relaxed. She took this movement and forced down the body of her opponent, making it go to the floor and spinning in turn. She was above her soon. Threw a punch to the face of the brunette and it cleared the target, but a blow to her stomach made her realize that the other knew well how to fight. A second later she was projected through the air, landing noisily one meter beyond.

She didn´t mean to die at the hands of this neurotic, so she got up quickly. The slim Ribbel was already up and moving decisively for her. The blonde launched a kick that impacted on her solar plexus and made her back. Encouraged, threw herself towards her seizing her arm and trying to subdue her, but a swift movement from the other woman made her miss and ended with a palm blow at the base of her neck that made it put one knee to soil. The lieutenant was not discouraged (her life was at stake after all) and retaliated with an elbow to the face of the trainer that threw her opponent backwards. Ran to her in a flash and intercepted her arm, projecting her into the back of the room, against the panel of another server. She approached the Asian but a punt of the other woman made her fall to the ground. The brunette passed her arm around the neck of the blonde, putting pressure against it. The lieutenant was in a bad position and as she felt the pressure on her neck, tried to insert a hand by way of a lever, in the deadly lock her enemy had captured her in.

Ribbel persisted in their attempt and pressed even more, knowing that if she yielded it could be the end of the road for everyone. The blonde was running out of air, but her promise to her commander was still standing. She stuck her arm and managed to stop the pressure a little. The brunette threw blows to her back trying to soften her. The military gritted her teeth and making a great effort managed to get in position, first one leg, then the other, and with an effort that seemed superhuman, was able to stand up and fall backwards, crushing the other women against the panel. The pressure on her neck loosened and Edwards took the opportunity to take the other´s arm and project her in a judo throw. The thin and wiry Ribbel flew and ended on the floor, hurting her back.

The two women´s face was red from the effort and the military woman´s hurried gasps filled the place. Both catch her breath and recovered as much as they could. However, when Ribbel took the plasma cutter from the place where she had left it, the lieutenant made a last effort to run to the board where she was sitting at the start of the match and took her own weapon.

The eyes of both women stared at each other once again. They seemed destined for mutual hate. None of the things one of them did, seemed to convince the least to the other. The guns of both improvised weapons were confronted as well, forcing them to a tight spot. One from which you couldn´t get out without losing something valuable.

_--- Mister Clarke... Ribbel... Sergei... Misses. Edwards... __Did anyone hear me?, over ---_ The scared voice of Rodrigo Cortez's through the radio frequency, distracted them for a moment of the tense standoff they were in, even though they both wanted to end that tense impasse they had entered. None would move a single muscle even.

_--- How did we come to this? ---_ asked the lieutenant.

_--- Shut up you miserable!, now i´m sure you are our perdition!, I won´t let you destroy us! ---_

_--- What are you're talking about, you neurotic? ---_

_--- I'm not a neurotic!, You´re conniving with them, with the EDF, the Church of Unitology, with the necromorphs! ---_

_--- Damn __Connors!, relax!, I'm not in cahoots with anyone, I just want to get out of here! ---_

_--- You're lying... you´re fucking lying, damn brazen!, You want to kill us all and take the Marker!...---_

_--- Listen Miss Connors: I did not meet you until recently, less than three hours ago. Devil may care if i desire other thing than to leave here. I have no need of the Marker nor do I care about it ---_

_--- That´s not true!..., not true!, You want to take it away... __---_

_--- No, I don´t want it , what I want is to get out of this bloody ship! ---_

_--- Damn!, someone answer me please!... Sergei... __Mr Clarke... __---_ Ribbel heard the whining voice of Rodrigo Cortéz again. Panic was all over him.

_--- Rodrigo... Rodrigo... I can not let them hurt you! --- _Ribbel said, her face visibly broken.

_--- Miss Connors. Listen carefully. __You want to protect your friends from hell if I know what sort of thing. I want to leave this place and I can´t do it alone. __We need each other... __---_

_--- That´s a lie, you don´t need us ---_ the brunette said, shaking her head and showing her disbelief.

_--- It's true and you know it... I'll put down my gun... and you can do the same. Think of Cortéz, you want help him, but until you answer, we risk losing him again... ---_

Ribbel came into herself as she heard that. The voice in her head, the one whispering things, which had convinced her with delirious whispers, to wake up and attack the lieutenant, using a justification that now seemed bleak, had disappeared. Instead she stood before the figure of the strong blond man known as Mercury, advancing towards her and taking her arm, pushing it slowly down, while giving her a warm smile.

The lieutenant sighed to see the other put down her weapon. Then she answered her communicator.

_--- Mr. Cortéz, this is Lieutenant Edwards, over ---_

_--- Rodrigo!, are you okay? ---_ the voice of the tall, slim woman, breaking into the conversation was heard.

_--- Ribbel!, Lieutenant! ... what a pleasure to hear you!. __I need help urgently! __---_ said the Latin engineer, in a tearful voice.

_--- Where are you Mr. Cortéz?, tell us your location and we will help you ---_ said Stephany while frantically typing instructions in the panel for the holographic map of the ship.

_--- I don´t know... don´t... w__ait... I'm connecting my RIG´s computer to the network near me... and... yep!... that should be able to help you track my signal ---_

There was a flashing red indication on the map of the ship. The designated area was the Engineering Deck.

_--- You´re on the other side of the ship. How is that possible? ---_

_--- I´d tell you if I knew... __wait... __I hear them coming, crawling through the pipes... I have to go. Come for me please! ---_ the Latino said, his voice distorted by fear.

Both women heard the unmistakable roar of one of the spawn, very close to the microphone, freezing the blood running through their veins. The message was cut and at one point the RIG signal was interrupted. Both women turned and looked into her eyes...

_And found a world of despair in the eyes of each other..._


	12. Survivor

_**Dead Space**_ and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), _**Mirror´s Edge**_ and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.

**Chapter Ten:**

**Survivor**

_Sueño con un antiguo rey._

_De hierro es la corona_

_y muerta la mirada..._

**Jorge Luis Borges**

_Run!... run faster!... run as if your life is at stakes!... cause it really is!..._

I don´t remember why, nor how, but I realize myself running all around. Seconds pass, turn into minutes, become like hours to me. Time is a merciless predator. I don´t know how I ended up here nor where I turned out from, but there´s little incentive in stopping to think about it.

The growls chasing for me, they don´t stop, they corner me, take me through uncertain paths. Desperation carves its way, relentlessly. I´m on the move since only recently, but I feel

my legs crack as if it were the first time I use them. I´m feeling tired, but I can´t stop. Doing so means death. And I don´t want to die, I can´t die!... not yet!.

One turn to the left, one to the right, up front across a dark corridor where I can´t see the far end. A dead end.

_Fear..._

_Fear that becomes panic as I realize the monsters behind are still looking for me..._

_One door... locked..._

A frantic kick that crashes on the hard metal sheet that stands before me. Not even a scratch. It remains unpolluted as ever. Look at the ceiling and see the grates. I know its suicide. They (whoever they are) move through the ducts...

_I have no choice!_

Climb as fast as I´m able. The programs on my suit don´t have any routines that might help me look for them in the darkness. There´s little other I can do than trusting my good fortune not to run out. I close the grate and crawl through the ducts to the next room. I´m not praying to any deity to avoid them. I never trusted a superior power to deliver me from evil.

_I can´t repent now..._

I slide myself into the room. There´s no one expecting me. Lock myself in one of the open lockers. Hold the door as strongly as I can. Secret is my best ally, but i´m afraid it´s not enough. Still hear them moving furiously through the ducts. Can hear their screams of nightmare filling the air all around. Can hear their echoes lost in the vastness of the ship. They were humans once (that much I remember well) but their voices are not like they used to be...

_One of them has fallen through the grates... stands up and looks around..._

I perceive the acrid and putrid stench without even seeing the creature. I´d be able to detect them from miles away were it not for the ship (I'm on a ship!...) being full of rotten and death smell. I can´t see it and I can only track it by the sound of its footsteps. If I close my eyes I can imagine it, ripping through the furniture of the small room, not caring one bit about the things that, when human, mattered to him somehow. I hear the chairs crashing to the ground. Hear the sounds of blades tearing wildly the carpets and furniture. Sniffing and wandering to and fro...

Another loud noise... another one has come... grunts and roars are heard too close. I dread to think that, like dogs, they can smell my fear at the distance. The steps come closer. Hear them, dangerously closing in, too much for my own sake. My hands are shaking and I'm afraid fear is causing me all sorts of gloomy thoughts... What if one decides to open the locker?... Can they do that?... I don´t know... Mr Clarke (Clarke, recognize the name!) never told me... What if they decide to use those sharp blades they have to impale me?...

_They are just behind the door!, They´re trying to pull it open! _

_I cling to the door as hard as I can to keep it closed... I will be discovered if I give in an inch!... _

_They are strong!... Damned strong!... I feel my nerves and my strength betray me more and more every second!... I need to resist or I´ll die in this god-forsaken place!... _

_I´m losing it!, I can´t hold it any longer!... _

_A strong cry is what fills my ears as I feel my hands slip from the door, a declaration of all the anger, horror and fear that pervades my body..._

!

I open my eyes...

_The door is open... but they´re gone..._

I don´t hear any sounds in the distance.

Come out of the locker cautiously, even when caution is not necessary anymore. If I were to die, it would´ve happened when the door became completely open.

_Have I imagined it all?_

Grab a chair and lean on it. My nerves are wrecked, but my memories become clear by the minute. The stocks of anxiolytics on my suit are running out and I don´t know how far I strayed from the Medical Deck or my friends (my friends...) if they´re alive yet...

I don´t remember exactly how I got here. But there are scenes spinning on my head. Pieces of a puzzle that makes no sense to me whatsoever. Remember feeling my body trembling because of an explosion... my sister... my deceased sister Vera... a cold feeling pervading through my body... the face of an old man that looks strangely familiar... the silhouette of the Marker...

Uuughh!, my head!

_The pain is piercing, sharp as the point of a needle, but manageable... _

My conscience begins to work slowly. I'm in an office. I don´t recognize the place, and it has no visible signs or references that I could use to orient myself. It's just a closed room, with smooth walls and metal panels, the kind of room that is activated through the insertion of alloy nodes in cases of emergency. Chairs and tables are overturned and thrown. There´s broken glass scattered all over the place, and a Coke machine that was pierced and slashed mercilessly. It seems that despite everything, the monsters are of the same opinion as humans (that measly substitute of the red bottle soda is as bad as one can imagine or worst...)

_I don´t believe it... I´m reantropomorphizing them..._

They´re no longer humans... I´ve repeated it to myself countless times... but something in this wrecked brain of mine refuses to accept it completely. Guess they remain somewhat intelligent but (if what the American engineer told us is true) the amount of it is little, since that abortion of nature called the Hive Mind used to control all of them. With that freak destroyed they shouldn´t be causing any trouble.

Maybe they changed to be independent... evolution develops in accelerated patterns on these creatures... or maybe someone else controls them (I´d bet what little sanity I have left that the giant creature, the one that destroyed our escape ship, is now their leader)...

My mind works quicker now... Remember having woken up three decks below, in the recycling sewage system. I still can feel the humidity soaking me and everything around. Water dragged me... ¿where from?... no... couldn´t have been the water...

I was in the ship´s hull, nearby the ADS. I was with someone... some... some... woman!...

_Ribbel..._

_Yes..._

We were on our way to the bridge... we got split because... because?... I don´t remember...

Pain is saturating my head again... my mind can´t work properly with so many medicines numbing me.

I rise and go for the exit. Then stop all of a sudden and go back to the boxes and lockers in the room. Look for something to defend myself. I find little but ammo for a Pulse Rifle I don´t have...

_It matters little.._.

Go out of the room and start to walk through the silent corridors. No more noise than the monotonous hum of the Life Support engines, the necessary machines to keep everything else on the ship working as it should. The Main Reactors are functioning properly and the energy flow is almost continuing. I remember with enough clarity.

_Before the Fall..._

The dark halls fill me with more apprehension than any monster. When they show up, you know at least that the enemy is nearby... that a wrong move means death... the wait however is deadlier... destroys without the need to physically harm you.

_Footsteps!..._

I lean on the wall and look trough the corner of my eye to one of the corridors at my left... sound doesn´t come from there. It´s like it would be coming from inside the metal itself.

I put distance as quickly as possible. I can´t stay in a place for long. They are coming. As I walk through the rooms and go inside them, start to remember my partner´s faces... The bloated, rubicund face of Sinclair, with his unique accent from Texas, the long-bodied Chandrasekhar, with his hypnotic face, the strong arms and oak complexion of Mozarev. As I turn the corner, nearby the refueling area, comes to my mind the shy smile of Regina, her glossy raven-hair and big, deep green eyes. The jokes from the slender, horse-faced Anderson and the complains of the fat, pale Perugia assault me like scavengers to a dead body.

I can´t stop, but my mind plays games with me as I reach one of the rest rooms. I try to get to a locker again, but I stop myself as I find dead bodies hanging from the ceiling. Can see them sadly oscillating... their faces turning to me to utter insults... no... they don´t... they´re not bodies... they´re just the suits of the maintenance personnel that hang over there, waiting for someone to use them.

There´s a log device in the floor. If Mr. Clarke came through, he didn´t notice it. Pick it up and connect it to my RIG by mere instinct. Crave to hear any voice that is not horrendous and nightmarish. My mind disconnects from the sounds around me and focuses on the feverish tone that comes from my RIG´s speakers:

_- Carl Danvers, third engineer, personal log: Temple has asked me to go with him to the fuel depot. He has the actual power to do so since Chief Engineer Rucker is gone and we know nothing about him. Probably gotten by one of those things!. We´re taking an enormous risk by moving through the Engineering Deck, but if the navigational engines of the ship are left without fuel, we won´t be able to correct the orbit and will fall into the gravitational well of the planet... then we can all say goodbye... We got a comm from Security Chief Vincent. She __asked us to gather as many of the engineering staff as possible and entrench ourselves in the control room nearby the tram area. Now the shit has hit the fan. It was at that very moment when the Chief found about the leak in the fuel conduits. Being the top officer in charge, he decided to go and repair it. Delegated responsibility in Jacob Temple, in case something bad happened to him. Regina volunteered to join him. None of them has returned, and I´m afraid it can happen to us as well... End of log -_

Now I remember. I´m in the Engineering Deck. This log has some time already. They´re gone beyond any hope...

Remember us finding Regina sometime after Temple and Danvers left. She was walking slowly by one of the side corridors of the refueling area. It was her helmet which tipped us off, as it fell off from her suit about a few meters. When we tried to come close, she whispered something in her native Italian and started to mess her hair. She was quite disturbed and her sullen sight went between us and a mysterious something that was behind her. She recognized us partially only to, after a couple of seconds, start another of those desperating, strange monologues. It was as if she were speaking to someone and this someone answered with words we were not able to hear. Their chat was becoming frantic, strong and troubled by the minute. We were by the limit of our mental strength and her demeanor was scaring us little by little...

Decided to take her with us to the refuge, but as soon as we put a hand on her she panicked and started to scream. Her grimace was becoming distorted and her little Italian face became a fiery one. She bit Sinclair and kicked Mozarev and escaped our grasp, running as fast as she was able to. We chased behind, just to lose her several meters ahead, when she boarded the transporting basket between the two sides of the refueling area. It went through the upper part of the gargantuan fuel depots, on a room of about thirty meters long and a height of forty, with little illumination, automatically becoming a dangerous place. Only a one meter width platform went between her and a fall of more than six floors. We couldn´t stop her, and she distanced from us, screaming and cursing in her native tongue.

What came next left me stunned. The shuttle was small, practically an steel basket, no more than a mere metal skeleton that ran through a rail going from one wing of the refueling area to another. A wrong move and her body would fall into the void. The exacerbated panic she was going through, was taking her over the limit, and was leaning on the not too high security railing, threatening to fall. She was screaming frantically, clawing wildly in the air as if fighting something. Then she stopped and looked all around. The platform stopped at good ten meters from where we stood. My blood froze with the cold of death as I heard her utter one of the single most horrifying screams I´ve ever heard. Took her hands to her face, directly to her deep forest-green eyes. And seeing her bury her fingers into her orbits without any doubt or remorse, to gouge those two green jewels from her sockets, made my heart stop. I can still hear the anguished howls that drill in my ears as she pulls with unbelievable strength. The scars in my soul talk about a fright that I wish to remember no more, as it paralyzes me every time I recall it. I can´t (and don´t want to) even imagine what she was looking at when she made the choice of acting so desperately. Blood flowed profusely from her sockets and stained her overalls. The screams stopped when she fell through the railing, her death rattles getting lost in the darkness below.

I´m huddled in dark corner. My arms clutch my knees and press them against my chest. Pain and fear are my constant partners, and remembering Regina´s death undermines my will. I don´t want to die. There is however a strange whisper in my head:

_Death is release..._

_Join us..._

_Let us be whole again..._

What do they mean by that?, how can "we" be whole again?, what does that mean?.

I hear noises behind me. The creatures are back... I´m not waiting till they find me. I go across a couple of ramps and into what looks as a control room. It all looks vaguely familiar but my mind is not very keen right now. There´s a passage behind me, but is obstructed by a barricade that I can´t avoid. I need something to cut it or make it blow. Still don´t know how I ended up here, but I´m pretty sure I don´t intend to die in this place. Not when salvation is so close...

_A radio equipment... my friends must be looking for me!..._

I dive into the computers of the Control Area. The equipment is operational still and the ship comm link is working. Adjust the frequency and nervously, send a message:

_- Mister Clarke... Ribbel... Sergei... Miss Edwards... __Did anyone hear me?, over -_

Silence... a channel that returns nothing but static... I wait a few more seconds. My anxiety is getting bigger by the minute. The growls of the creatures are increasingly nearby. Fear is only skin-deep and the mere feeling of goosebumps is stressing me out...

_- Damn!, someone answer me please!... Sergei... __Mr. Clarke... Ribbel __-_

Desperation grips me with iron claws. My breathing is about to fail. The feeling of being all alone in this doomed ship is distressing. Punch desperately at the console in front of me, and then something is heard over the comm:

_- Mr. Cortéz, this is Lieutenant Edwards, over -_

_- Rodrigo!, are you okay? - _the voice of Ribbel is bulked all over the frequency.

_- Ribbel!, Lieutenant!... what a pleasure to hear you!. I need help urgently! - _cry while tears start running trough my face.

_- Where are you Mr. Cortéz?, tell us your location and we will help you - _hear the frantic voice of the Lieutenant. I still remember the sudden, violent twirl she made me do, but at times like this any human voice, even hers, is welcome.

_- I don´t know... don´t... w__ait... I'm connecting my RIG´s computer to the network terminal near me... and... yep!... that should be able to help you track my signal -_ I say with my nerves making me forget for a blissful moment. Quickly configure my RIG to get connected to the internal network.

_- You´re on the other side of the ship. How is that possible? -_ the voice of Ribbel is accusing.

_- I´d tell you if I knew... wait... - _I sense some movement behind me, as well as noises all around_ - I hear them coming, crawling through the pipes... I have to go. Come for me please! -_

Turn around to find one of them standing in front of the blocked corridor that (now I remember) leads to the tram station. I can´t go that way. React quickly when seeing that monster coming down for me. I roll to the side to avoid it and look how it plunges its knife on the control panel. Several sparks fly by, but the ugly barely notices. I run but there´s another one coming down from the passageway. I turn right, to an elevator that is on the far end of the hall. Push the open button, but it´s on another floor. The monster hasn´t stopped and now it runs to me. At the side of the elevator there´s a couple of lockers. I go through them, searching frantically as the thing gets closer and closer. There´s nothing but a golf club! (a nine-iron to be more accurate...).

Face the enemy and lash at it with as much force I can gather. The swing isn´t lethal (I remember seeing those things coming out relatively unscathed of plasma shots and explosions), but it gives me enough time to hear the elevator door open. That´s my runaway ticket. Behind it, there comes some two of them, running to me, jumping over its fallen comrade. One of them lunges directly to me, rising with its razor-sharp arms extended to the front, trying to impale me. I throw myself to the open elevator and stand to push the "close doors" button, realizing the thing has erred me for a few scarce centimeters. The door closes as the freak stands up. Its arm still reaches the inside of the elevator, missing my side by very little, and sinking in the back panel, before the door its completely closed, crushing and mincing the limb.

The machine moves away to another floor, as I hear the guttural cry of pain of the injured creature. I lean down on the metal panel behind me. Sweat is drenching my head, and makes me take the mask of my suit away. I draw my sight first to the sharp limb that almost kills me, and then to the bent and ruined golf club. It triggers another recollection...

_- Golf clubs?, where do you think you´re going to play golf in this giant bucket, Sinclair? -_ says Anderson as he stares at the holographic screen of his workplace, filling some electronic forms. Sinclair is standing in the threshold of the cubicle and has a bag of golf clubs in his hands.

_- Look. If Chief Engineer Rucker lends us his golf rug, we can put it in the ramps next to the refueling area. We close a couple of sections and we can have a private mini-golf course. How does that sound? - _answers the Texan as he goes to his locker, takes out a nine-iron and weights it.

_- Yeah sure!, as if the Chief were to lend you his fine and expensive rug... - _retorts the equine-faced Anderson as he turns around in the reclining chair and stares askance at the golf clubs.

_- I can do so, you lazy blockheads!, but only you hurry to finish your damn tasks!. What?, do __you think this golden wrist of mine doesn´t need any practice every now and then? -_ the Chief adds as he enters the workplace. Both of the workers look at each other and run to finish off their chores.

_Chief Rucker really knew how to encourage his men... _

They´re not here anymore... The Chief, Temple, Danvers and the others. They became those things... or suffered ill-fated deaths. Now it´s only me. The elevator stops and the door opens to one of the sub-decks. The gravity centrifuge systems are on this particular floor and any failure in the systems here would undo any work towards escape.

I can´t go back there unarmed. Wish, against all established security regulations, for any of my co-workers to have left their work-tools out of place. I throw the ruined golf club and take the sharpened arm, wielding it as a weapon. It isn´t any better than my previous means of defense, but at least I won´t be unarmed. Walk through a central lane, seeing the lights flicker. Someone or something its playing with the electric supply of the ship.

Along the corridor there are several doors, closed offices and a bigger, thicker metal door. It leads to the lower part of the gravity centrifuge system. Its necessary however, to pass through a decontamination chamber. This one is configured like the other ones leading to areas with sensitive equipment across the ship: A couple of doors on the ends of the room, a central machine controlling the sterilization injection systems, and reinforced crysteel windows to the sides.

Watch over the windows. Beyond the room there are several closed drawers. One of them however, is open, and within I can glimpse the form of Handheld Graviton Accelerator. Luck is on my side... I get into the decon chamber without so much thought. The mechanism is devised so that the exit door opens once the elimination of any dangerous particles has been completed. I´m not in any risk as long as I wear my suit, so I don my face mask and go to the computer with quick long strides, to start the process.

As I turn on the machine both doors are sealed airtight and an orange emergency light starts blinking. It´s all part of the standard work procedure so I´m not caught by surprise. The air all around me is filled with glutaraldehyde aerosol particles that might affect me, were my suit not hermetically sealed. Too late I remember that my ordinance has already been breached, as I have received several wounds, and the emergency systems have repaired it applying several patches. I´m really hoping it won´t affect me. The fine rain persist for a couple of seconds. I observe my helm´s visor get misty with the crystalline solution. Wait for a few seconds as the solution becomes inert, by way of a decompression-drying system. The particles leave and the light turns off for a second.

I must not get nervous... it´s only a glitch in the electrical system... a glitch that leaves all the floor in the dark... I hold tightly my improvised weapon as I get close to the crysteel windows, trying to distinguish something. The blackness that envelops the room repels every light. I can barely recognize the silhouettes of the things outside of the room. Everything is static and there´s no noises filtering through the metal panels.

I´m watching the darkness when, through the corner of my eye see something moving very fast. I turn to try and glimpse the form, but whatever it was it´s already gone. Fear dominates me again. It´s this cold air feeling moving through the back of my head that I get every time one of those things stalk me in the dark. There´s something else behind me... I can feel it... I force myself to turn to face my fears, but nothing shows up...

I tightly grasp my means of defense to the point of strain, and go near the door, looking for a way out. Then I think twice about it. Room is sealed. If the creatures are out there, I´m safer where I stand. The light returns after this. There´s nothing outside the room. My imagination got the worst of me again.

I reluctantly go to the exit and check again... nothing. Open the door and slide outside getting to the open drawer where the Handheld Graviton Accelerator is... only it isn´t.

The iron grip of the anxiety crushes me again. Check the furniture thoroughly and despair when I see there´s nothing, neither there nor in the other nearby lockers. The pipelines containing cables, and the necessary inputs for the correct functioning of the area, start to creak, forced by a pressure I can´t locate. It only makes my stress rise. Watch to the sides and see two locked doors. They lead to different parts of the lower centrifuge system. I decide not to go there since I see a blinking light, just on the other side of the decon room. A transmitter device...

Run as fast as I can to cross the shielded room again. The light flickers and dies again. I´m getting near the exit door when I hear the crack of a metal door being forced to open. Fear overcomes me, and my breath starts to accelerate when I see a tentacle sliding through the opening in the door. First one... then another!... and another!...

There´s this reddish small creature in front of me, that looks like a squid, crawling slowly and dumbly up to me. I prepare my stance and swing with my improvised weapon. The hit misses. Whatever it is, is faster than me. It has sidestepped and swiftly lunges to me. Tangles my neck with its limbs, screaming a sharp, horrific and singular screech. I drop the weapon and wrestle with it trying to pull it off me, but the damned thing grapples on to me as if its life depended on it. it´s cilia twine more and more on my neck and the collar of my suit strains by the pressure. These things are too damned strong!...

I´m starting to lack air. The pressure on my throat is increasing. I tumble to the floor trying to crush the creature, but have little control over my movements. Can´t get enough air... my sight is failing me...

I grab a mouthful of air violently, as I open my eyes. Try to get as much oxygen as possible in every breath. At my side, the creature lays dead. Fear assaults me again and crawl back getting away as much possible. It doesn´t moves for me. It´s crushed. By its inert and battered side there´s the boot of an engineering suit...

_- That was close call, boy -_

I recover from the surprise as much as I can, while looking at a short figure... a survivor!, and one that I recognize as well!, someone I never thought I would see alive!:

_- Von Alper!, Dawid Von Alper!, how is it possible?, I saw you die! - _rant as a stab of guilt eats my guts.

_- Nice to see you again too Cortéz... you saw one of this things... - _the man of short stature and course blond features, kicks mercilessly the corpse of the creature by our side_ - ...stab me. But there´s still a long way between that and dying, son - _

I stand up nimbly. The presence of the German of face sculpted in rock and sharp shinning eyes changes everything. I check him from head to toe and notice how battered is his suit. It´s not the same he had when we split. He had undoubtedly to search thoroughly through the belongings of the dead to find a decent substitute. I also notice the Handheld Graviton Accelerator in her left arm...

_- Hey!, I saw that first! -_ pointing to the tool fashioned as weapon.

_- Heh!, finder´s keepers. Besides... with all due respect Cortéz, you wouldn´t be able to handle this device without breaking your arm. You´re such a wimp... - _

That´s not true, but it makes me remember the reasons why I chose the Contact Beam to the Handheld Graviton Accelerator: It´s minor mass and weight. I also recall that the Accelerator manipulates gravity in a wide cone, creating a miniature singularity and redirecting its energy to the tip of the cannon. Even though not much energy is needed to create the desired effect of elemental particles displacement, the Handheld Accelerator is less "portable" than what its name would assume. In theory the strength flowing from the singularity to the cannon is enough to move backwards forty kilos of tool with the speed of a bullet. And having someone without the proper training to handle it, would be hazardous for that person´s physical condition. I look to the robust body of Von Alper and know he won´t have any penalties by using it. I can see also that, for being a cadaver, he looks in better shape than me, something that certainly surprises me:

_- How the heck did you survive?... when I... left you... you were dead clinically... or at least that´s what your RIG said -_ asked as I strived fort the exit.

_- It´s a long story... and this is no place to talk about it. I can tell you this however, never trust a machine that much -_

We go out of the sterilization room to the passage from where I came. In front of me, there´s a distant office, with a blood-stained desk, where a dismembered body lays on top. There also blinks a computer. Turn to both sides, looking to every corner, every door, every grating. There´s no track of my pursuers, nor there´s any noise. A deadly calm reigns, one that makes my spine shiver, but the strong figure of Von Alper flanking me gives me some measure of confidence, makes me feel I can handle it. Go to the desk, at one of the walls and input some instructions The terminal is connected to the ship´s internal network, and is perfectly functional.

I plug my RIG and establish a link to the mainframe, while my partner stands on the door, staring at the darkness with the Graviton Accelerator, waiting for something. There, on the screen, it opens a dialog box with instructions and asks me to authorize the connection. My friends have managed to find me again. A video screen comes to life:

_- Rodrigo!, Rodrigo!, by all heavens! -_ I can see anxiety in Ribbel´s face.

_- Mr. Cortéz... so nice to see you! -_ the proper manners of Lt. Edwards feel awkward for the moment.

_- I say the same - _smiling slightly.

_- Where are you? - _asks Ribbel, frantic as her face comes near the screen. Her grimace is distorted on a very unique way.

_- In the fifth floor of the Engineering Deck, nearby the entrance to the sterile area. Just below the Gravity Centrifuge. I´ve found a survivor - _

_- Someone else survived?, excellent Mr. Cortéz!, however I can´t find any other RIG signal in the area - _says the Eltee.

I try to redirect the signal to find my tough partner´s RIG, all in vain. Look to the strong German-Jewish. He limits himself to lift his shoulders, as he keeps on guard duty with vigilant eyes.

_- Maybe there´s a problem with his RIG.. whatever... what do we do now? - _I ask undeterred.

_- Miss Edwards has reactivated the Resident A.I. and the automated repair system of the ship is working now. There are some urgent repairs being performed but it´s going to take a while. The Tram repairs however, have been flagged as top priority, and will be completed in a couple of hours. Instead there´s something else you can help us with... - _finishes Ribbel making me wish staying shut...

_- Mr. Cortéz: The ship´s orbit is changing. Due to the ship being freed of the weight of the mass of land extracted form Aegis VII... - _Lt. Edwards speaks through the camera, alternating places with the Asian girl, as she directs her sight to an unknown camera out of frame.

_- "The cork" -_ I say, miss Edwards ignoring me completely

_-... the orbit has been modified substantially. If you throw in the added weight of the Valor, you can easily see we´re in a compromised situation. Corrections are needed to be made to the orbit so that we move away from the planet, but not too far from the debris field released from... uh...-_

_- From "the cork" -_ Say, straining the word.

_- Yes... exactly. The plan we established before leaving the Medical Deck its still standing. If we want to retrieve the Marker, is a priority that we don´t stray too far -_

_- Retrieve the Marker?, what the heck are they talking about? - _asks Von Alper behind me.

_- Another long story my friend, I can explain you later. Then we need to make corrections to the orbit, and what does it has to do with me? -_ Ask, still not understanding what my role in this situation is.

_- According to UMAS´ reports, the potency of the ship´s navigational rockets is more than enough to take us to a stable orbit. However there´s no influx of fuel to the machines. So we need to refuel them... -_

At that very moment one idea assaults me. The voice of the Lt. drops an octave and then it hits me: The fuel leak that Chief Rucker and afterwards Temple and Danvers tried unsuccessfully to repair... that leak is threatening us now...

_- There won´t be enough fuel -_ I comment, the British blond stopping abruptly, and her green eyes drilling my head. - _I´ve found reports where there are mentions of hydrogen leaks in the main depots. I think it´s possible to use the emergency reserves, but I need access to some specific info about this deck -_

_- UMAS will give you clearance -_ she answers and then a man´s face appears on the screen. He has a likeness to the electronic construct I used to call "quack", but it has small details i´m not familiar with, such as a line of darker color running through his face and sharpening his features.

_- Mr. Cortéz... -_ the sound of his voice is mellifluous, but there´s something in it that I don´t really like _- tell me what you need -_

_- How much is left of the fuel auxiliary reserves? -_

_- Auxiliary reserves at twenty percent of capacity - _The look on my face must be discouraging enough, because it makes the construct stop. A sudden idea assaults me.

_- How much do we need nominally to get to Earth, or to the nearest refueling point? -_

_- At least eighty percent of reserves to get to Earth, but according to navigational charts, we could dock at the provisional anchorages in orbit over Excella AE-725, in proximity of Barnard Star, to refuel and do emergency repairs, and we would only need over fifty percent of actual estimations, as well as half the time of travel -_

My "hunch" is about to make me do something I don´t really want to:

_- We can make a bypass from the USM Valor to the Engineering Deck -_

Now its the turn of my friends to be shocked:

_- You must be out of your freaking mind!, that place is still crawling with monsters! - _shouts Ribbel getting near the camera and obstructing it completely.

_- I would highly recommend against such a plan, Mr. Cortéz. Besides, there´s no way for us to know if that frigate still has enough fuel after the explosions -_ comments the Lt. in a grim way, replacing Ribbel in front of the camera.

_- I can help with that, Ms. Edwards. There were several secondary explosions in the __embedded vessel, but my sensors detect an untouched reserve equaling around thirty eight point seven percent of the Ishimura´s emergency tanks. There´s also some interesting detail: All of this fuel seems to be in a rather... metallic state -_ says UMAS in a rather monotonous voice.

_- MSMH? -_ says Von Alper raising en eyebrow.

_- What?, how do you say? -_ I ask, taken by surprise.

_- The fuel is a meta-stable metallic form, that may have precluded it from combusting in the fire -_ UMAS shows no emotion. The parallel with the "robot bitch" is more than obvious.

_- Yes, some of the frigates of EDF can store and use such a fuel. A wonder of design, one of the last works of Paul Clarke for the United Earth Government, before his disappearance -_ comments the Lieutenant, lowering her head, in a rare display of emotion. Her voice sounds a strange mix of... remorse and disaffection.

_- Interesting... Paul Clarke... that name rings a bell... geez!... Paul Clarke!, the shipwright... my... I wonder if our friend Isaac has some relation to him -_ I say, my head spinning around the fact of how conversations can turn in an instant.

_- Yes he has -_ intervenes Ribbel _- He´s his son. Her fiancée Nicole told me a lot about his father´s job -_

Such a surprise. I thought I recognized the surname Clarke, but I never expected... but i´m deviating from my current issues. My "hunch" about the Valor is correct. With that fuel we have better possibilities. Besides it´s really easy to transport it in its current state, so we don´t need to do a derivation to the giant plumberwork of the Ishimura. It also can let us dock in safe dry and not to take the plague to Earth...

_- Then there´s our only chance, we need to go to the Valor - _the look of determination in my face is more than enough to justify a rambling from the Asian girl.

_- You got to be kidding!. You don´t remember what happened there, do you?, do you? - _says Ribbel, with her more accusing tone.

_- I remember all to well... but we currently lack any other options. So i´m taking my chances... UMAS, look on the Engineering files over the label "Non-Standard procedures". There are several diagrams for an emergency bypass from the auxiliary tanks, transfer them to my RIG please -_

_- You´re going to need some other tools to liquefy that fuel again - _comments Von Alper from behind me. I don´t turn to see what he´s doing.

_- Let´s go one step at a time my friend. I want to have that fuel in the Ishimura before proceeding with the next step. Do you have any means to know the actual condition of the corridors leading to the main engines? -_

_- Yes Mr. Cortéz, the halls are cleared but there´s some biomass spreading rapidly from the maintenance areas to the engine room. In ten hours there won´t be enough space to make any maneuvers, left alone to start the engines -_

_- Hopefully we won´t take that long UMAS. Ribbel, Lieutenant, where are Mr. Clarke and Sergei? - _

_- They´re on the Captain´s Nest, fixing some other systems and linking them to the internal network, But you´re not seriously thinking of going to that place, are you?- _comments the Lt. in an unsure way.

_- I am, we have no other choice if we are to get out of this mess alive. All right, guess we´re on our own for the time being -_ I say and the German looks at me with a malicious smile.

_- Transference completed. Mr. Cortéz, we have a deadline of five hours to do this course correction, if we do it later we miss a window of opportunity and we would have to wait for at least before twelve hours more before we have another chance -_

_- Twelve hours we don´t have... okay... if any of you can send me any help later, that would be very much appreciated -_

_- Actually yes. I´m going with you. Mr. Cortéz, as soon as the Tram system is operational again - _says Miss Edwards with a look of grim determination.

_- You also must be out of your mind!. What happened to all of you while I was sleeping?, did some necromorph ate your brains? - _ranted the raven haired Asian girl while staring in disbelief to the British blond.

_- No. Ms. Connors, I believe they will need my expertise if they want to succeed. One last thing Mr. Cortéz, i´m synchronizing your RIG with the system, so that we can learn if something happens to you, although I´m afraid we can´t do the same with your friend... - _mentions the Lt., with her hands literally flying through several screens.

_- Von Alper, Dawid Von Alper... - _says the blond German-Jewish facing the screen.

_- Nice to meet you Mr. Von Alper... -_ comments the Lieutenant, with Ribbel gesturing on the background.

_- Right. We´ll fix the problem with my friend later. As for going with us... ¿are you sure you want to do this? -_ I ask trying not to get nervous by looking those deep inscrutable eyes.

_- Yes Mr. Cortéz. __I too don´t want to go back to the ship, but the Valor has some special systems that can help us do the job -_ her expression is devoid of any emotion. An iceberg is better company.

_- Alright - _I say hitting the strong back of my partner _- Hands on for now!. Miss Edwards, let us know once the tram is ready -_

_- Okay Mr. Cortéz, we´re on standby, we have your frequency and we will establish any communications through video link. I´ll let you know once we´re ready - _the Lieutenant turns and proceeds to do other things, only the sorrowful face of Ribbel says goodbye.

_- Take care Rodrigo. Over and out - _she finishes.

The link is cut and I disconnect my RIG from the machine. The gesture of miss Edwards is disconcerting to say the least, but hey... beggars are not choosers... I´m more relaxed after this. I check the diagrams in my holo-screen while Von Alper only makes grimaces. I´m almost sure he doesn´t understand half of the diagrams, I myself am in that same position:

_- What idiot thought of doing an emergency schematic this complicated? -_

Color rises to my cheeks. The face of the German is highly expressive. He has no need to ask, my expression and rubicund face makes him utter a childish laugh trhat makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. Afterwards it gives me a hard slap in my back that shakes me completely:

_- You know what does it look like Cortéz?, as if you just came out of college and had never worked in this very job -_ the mocking smile doesn´t disappear from his face.

That commentary makes me feel like a complete idiot. Von Alper realizes it and hits me slightly in my shoulder:

_- Don´t take it too hard kid, there are many repairs to do and I need someone to translate this mess. Look I found this while you were busy with your friends, it may be useful -_

The sight of a RC-DS Remote-Control Disc Ripper makes my spirit go high. It´s not my faithful Contact Beam, but is a better tool than any other thing I´ve found:

_- Damn, now i´m ready to roll! -_

_- Yes, but be careful. It has several spare discs, but if you happen to shoot without aim you will dent them very quickly -_

_- Okay. We have to go down on the elevator and go to the engine room. We´ll be able to make the first part of the bypass without any problems -_

The German-Jewish says nothing. For an answer it takes a dime out of one of his suit´s pockets an throws it to me:

_- I still intend to invite you that beer after we collect our payment -_

I nod in approval. Without any hurry we go to the elevator.

_-xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx-_

The plan is developing without any setbacks. The Latin is cautious, but it has no reason to doubt me. The face of his dead friend is more than enough to hide my intentions. The survivors are repairing the ship and it´s only a matter of time before this pile of junk is ready to travel. First to the Sprawl, then to Mars and finally to Earth. When that happens...

My mission will be completed. Several million years of waiting and the moment is getting near with uncanny celerity. Neither the anathemas, nor the surviving humans will be able to stop me. The Dean will pay for what he´s done. Order will be restored...

_And then we will be whole again!..._


	13. Live without forgetting death

_**Dead Space**_ and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), _**Mirror´s Edge**_ and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven:**

**Live, without forgetting death.**

_Thoughts fly out, swarm by swarm,  
One tightens the heart, another rends it,  
yet another weeps quietly  
inside it, so that even God wouldn't hear. _

**Taras Schevchenko **

_**Population Deck, USM Valor,**_

_Three and a half hours before orbital no-return point_

Rodrigo Cortéz made a gesture to his partners and they all went through the blackened airlock of the USM Valor. The apelike Von Alper was upfront, moving with the precision of a point man who belong his whole life in the military, drawing before him the massively threatening Handheld Graviton Accelerator. The small nose of the gun´s barrel was a permanent deterrent for the necromorphs, that already had suffered havoc because of it. Lieutenant Edwards was only a few steps behind him, pointing the Plasma Cutter and covering his blind side, moving almost quietly. The woman had met them ten minutes after they reached the decompression airlock sealing the Storage Deck of the Ishimura (apparently UMAS had already taken control of the self-repair systems of the ship and was doing one hell of a job, specially with the tram system).

The Latin engineer was covering the rear, while trying to keep his mind focused. The place they were going in gave him the creeps, and made himself thank secretly that he wasn´t alone in that new task.

They walked a few more meters and then stopped again, analyzing the route. Much of the road was already charred and blocked by debris of the explosions within the ship, triggered when Isaac Clarke went in looking for the singularity drive.

_- We´ll have to take a few detours, but we won´t take too long. About ten minutes or so -_

The cold and calm voice of the military woman helped him remain leveled, as they traversed the empty corridors. White and yellow sparks flew from electrical boxes stuck on the walls surrounding them, and lit dimly the dark halls. The smell of burnt plastic, solenoid and electrical parts filled all and made him doubt of the effectiveness of his RIG´s air filters.

The group got near an elevator, and the two men restored a power cell to feed the contraption. Their destination was the third upper deck, where the Command and Information Center of the ship was located. He recalled briefly what the woman had explained about her plan.

_- The USM Valor is an Examire-class space frigate, a transport class whose design is entirely unique among the fleet. In a common ship the influx of resources can be canceled or allowed across entire decks , through computer-assisted orders given from the CIC.. You would understand Mr. Cortéz, as an engineer, that any space-worth ship should have that design as a baseline. That is must, when you think about any emergency event where there´s no chance of returning to safe harbor. What looks as a common trait to the rest of the ships, is a wide advantage when we talk about the fifty-six ships of the Examire-class -_

_- And that means...what? - _asked the Latin without hiding his own impatience.

_- The modularity of such a design is so, that not only can the resources be blocked or allowed, but the own component blocks of the ship can be attached or disassembled easily. An average ship can be stripped from his main systems in at least a week. An Examire-class can be dismounted in three days at most. The reason for this, is being able to transform it from a light frigate to a medium warship, or a transport troop in reasonable time. That is as long as you have the proper modules and techs to do so -_

_- So, the ship can be disassembled and the fuel can be taken away from the Engineer Deck to the Ishimura without so much fuss? - _inquired Von Alper, with hesitant air.

Miss Edwards agreed with her head.

_- To do so it´s necessary for a high ranking officer to be present, or in failure to do so, you must have the disassembling authorization codes of the ship from the ranking officer - _said the military woman walking slowly in circles in the decompression airlock next to the Storage area, where she found the two men.

"_And who was the ranking officer?"_ both men asked.

_- Commander Cadigan... but he´s dead already -_

They observed an unusual reaction in the blond woman. A symptom of something that made her react in an uncommon way: She casted a sigh.

_- I don´t know where his body is... or even if he had become one of them... but I know where we can find the RIG of Colonel Archer -_

_-And who´s that? - _asked the stout German, with that thick Teutonic accent so particular of him.

_- He is... was... The XO of the ship. In case of an emergency involving the Commander, he would get full command powers, and part of it are the disassembling codes -_ the Lieutenant ended.

To that consensus they had agreed. And willing to assert that advantage, they had traveled into the bowels of the diabolical craft. They didn´t need to fight so far, a fact which was encouraging but also suspicious. Rodrigo didn´t want to alter his mental state anymore than necessary, the effort to concentrate was quite demanding. He wanted to put aside the nightmare they had lived when he and fellow Ribbel approached the wreck. The sweat on his forehead increased as the elevator door closed behind them and the sound of the contraption in motion reminded him of his previous experience:

* * *

They had landed on the Storage Deck and advanced through the tunnels to the main area. The transmission warning received by the (then inexplicably functional) comm antenna, had made them go out of their hiding hole on the Population Deck (where they had taken temporary refuge) to go to the Flight Deck, where they hoped a rescue ship from the EDF would be found. They were riding the tram, when a severe impact on the hull of the ship shook them. It was not enough to stop their journey, but it certainly startled them.

When both of them reached the central room, they saw a huge gap left by a smaller vehicle, when it impacted the side of the massive mining ship. It was testament to its robust design that there was little structural damage. Both youths approached the impact-proof airlock of the frigate, when their suits detected a radiation leak. Rodrigo looked over them, while opening the hatch. The nuclear weapons munitions of the crashed ship were being spilled from their containers. These giant U-233 nuclei could radiate dangerous levels of gamma rays in seconds, and an overdose would kill them without hesitation. The Latin man reluctantly dragged his companion into the ship, protected from the hazardous material, closing the hatch and ordering the vessel´s system to seal it, regardless of the negative but inevitable consequences of his decision...

* * *

He came back to his senses just as the elevator door opened on the third floor. Standing in front of them, just three meters away, was one of them, the former inhabitants of the ship. His white skin and chunky members seemed to sway and flow like a mirage. A sound halfway between a lisp and a word came from the mouth of the monster, and then it ran away so quickly that none had time to raise their weapons. The sight of the creature gave him a shiver. He recalled that they moved faster than any of the other monsters that were on the ship. His sharp protrusions were no illusion however, and he recalled with trembling horror the persecution

* * *

They had looked for survivors of the accident. The ones they found didn´t last enough to tell them what had happened. The dead were raising, starting to swarm everywhere as furious red ants before an enemy attack. They could contain the first ones, by force of arms. But then they had to run, hide in different rooms while the creatures passed by, only to rush out in hurry when they realized they were not alone.

_Shots everywhere breaking the silence of nightmare... isolated complaints which ended in screams of pain as biting and cold as ice stakes... fallen bodies in abnormal positions... faces contorted into grimaces of anguish and despair... eyes full of fear and distress... silent witnesses of the horrors that had invaded the small ship... desperate gasps... grave voices that echoed through the hopeless halls of the decks..._

They ran as fast as they could. One floor, then another. Flashing lights waving as candles hit by a hellish sirocco. Suddenly the darkness and gloom... touch becoming their only guide. They could repeat in their heads the frantic cries of the crew, being massacred every single minute, without truce or concessions. Five steps and then a frantic dance on a red bloody carpet, damp and thick. Anxiety increasing in their minds, their hearts foreshadowing the fatal moment when their organs would go out of their bodies, either because they would be ripped off of there, or driven away by their own unbridled panic.

Came back as they could to the exit hatch, fighting every five meters against entire groups. Upon reaching the airlock they found that someone had removed the hazardous material. The hatch was unlocked and it didn´t prevent the passage, to go out in haste. When they reached the monorail they found Sergei huddled near the door, wounded and holding his rifle with hesitant pulse. The roar of the necromorphs and an explosion in the distance made them leave aside the formalities and board the transport.

Lt. Edwards turned to see her companion in the rear. His face was white and could swear she heard the beating of his Latin heart up to three meters away. She was filled with the same nervousness he was, because of that tense wait:

_- Are you okay Mr. Cortéz? -_

The engineer didn´t answer, but his eyes betrayed the turmoil in his mind:

_- __Mr. Cortéz? -_ She asked again, but only managed to get a growl of the young man, one which could mean many things.

_- Antworten jetzt __Mexikaner s__cheißkerl__! -_ Von Alper´s voice boomed altered, although there was no facing him or showing signs of discomfort. However, the tension between the two men could be felt as if it were a thick fog surrounding them. The British turned to him suddenly. She didn´t recall any reason for the dissatisfaction among them, nothing to justify this behavior. The tone and manner of the stocky man, she didn´t like a thing..

_- I am... fine -_ was all Cortéz managed to growl.

_- Zurückgeblieben... -_ said the miner and then started moving again living both youngers behind.

* * *

_**Command and Information Center, USM Valor,**_

_Three hours before orbital no-return point..._

Lieutenant Edwards gave herself the luxury of decorating her normally neutral visage, with a face of deep concern. Her features, sharp and gaunt from the strain of the last hours, resembled those of a painting, one of the many she had seen in her youth. She pulled her hair and played with it a bit, waiting for the situation reports from the ship. Von Alper and Cortéz stood both behind her waiting, one impatient, the other scared.

She let her mind wander a little, transposing the horizon of dirty, black metal panels, to get back to that room through which light filtered, that pristine place of open windows with white curtains billowing in the wind. That fallacious but secret and invariably personal replica of the Prado Museum in Madrid, which she used to isolate herself when she so desired, keeping stored only selected memories of things he saw...

_- We are ready Lt. ... Lieutenant?... do you hear me? - _the deep and rash voice of Von Alper threw herself back to her horrible reality.

_- I can hear you perfectly Mr. Von Alper. Get to Engineering and disassemble the container. I'll make sure to open a route to carry as much fuel as needed for the maneuvering -_ emphasized the platinum blond in a hard tone of reproach, as she looked the Latin and the German exchange doubtful looks that they didn´t bother to hide.

_- All right - _said the burly man, as the gate of the CIC began to unfold_ - Remember, we will keep radio contact every twenty minutes -_

_- Godspeed... -_ she said as they went out.

The woman stood still for a moment, but as soon as she heard them go away, made sure that the plasma cutter was in its place (attached to a magnetic panel of her armor), and verified the power charge of the Arc Welder their companions rescued from the Medical Deck, that she had brought as a support weapon. Like other things on the Ishimura, tools had been made by Schofield Tools ("The extra-terrestrial mining tools leader", read its slogan). It had a practical and very reliable design, failing only in the most extreme cases (a thing she had very vocally appreciated).

Hooked the gun to her back and then became aware again of the body of Lieutenant Commander Archer, next to the door, behind her, just as she had last seen him when he was still alive. Leaning against the wall, as if resting, with the mask of his battle armor hiding his face. The incipient pain of a memory threatened to invade her again, but she said to herself she had no time for it. Extracted the RIG´s micro-computer from the storage spaces of the body that God himself had forsaken, and proceeded to connect it to her own computer. Established a link between the suit´s device and the piece of equipment she had recovered.

A few seconds later she had already looked for the disassembly codes, and accessed the stylish security interface, allowing the separation of several key junctures of the fuel tanks. Not even five minutes had passed yet, so the lieutenant went on to check other systems on the ship and plan a route avoiding blocked corridors and reviving the service elevators of the craft. Finally removed the safe locks of the doors and hatches that would take them back from Engineering to the lower front hatch of the Valor.

Once having done that, she came up to the dead soldier she had for a grim company. She removed the mask and examined the face of the stern fighter:

_A face of peace amidst a carnival of blood. What a contradiction!_

His clear blue eyes, saluted her with a touch of unmovable tranquility. A pang of jealousy hit her with a hitherto unknown force, but this didn´t daunt her. The platinum blond released a long sigh...

_And then she found that which made her decide to return to the ship... that picture pressed on the right hand of the man ..._

A wet feeling swept her cheeks. She was becoming lost to one of those uneasy feelings that distort everything, that disrupt the thoughts and twist them to show the things that people have hidden in the very depths of their beings. That man, soldier, friend and lover that lay before her, had shown her more affection and loyalty than what her own blood had given. Her mind jumped to a bygone scene, one which she tended to revive from time to time with cruel faithfulness...

* * *

_- The special teacher resigned? -_ Her father asked incredulously. He had come home after a busy day and waited in the dining room from the kitchen while her mother prepared something for him. She was standing there, looking from the doorway of the room. Her eyes showed no sense of the sorrow that darkened her heart.

_- Yes, she left this morning. She excused herself saying the payment she received wasn´t enough to compensate for the inconvenience that "our little business" gave her -_ her mother said, taking the defensive position she had seen her many times when they talked.

_"Our little business" invariably referred to her._

_- Did you offer to double the salary? -_ Asked him.

_- Offered to triplicate it ... yet she decided to go... - c_ountered the woman looking into his eyes.

_- I can´t believe it, this is the third specialist in one month!... -_ the man came toward her, his towering figure like a volcano threatening to erupt.

_- Leave her alone!... she is not to blame... none of this would have happened if you had agreed to take her to gene therapy from the beginning... -_ the women accused sitting on the rickety table in the room, causing surprise in the face of her father. The face of the mature female denoted concern, mixed with notable anxiety.

_- Damn it woman!, you know perfectly well that we could not afford it at the time!, even now we would lose the few things we have, if we dedicate ourselves to it! -_ snub him, with an authoritarian gesture, but with voice that betrayed deep remorse and sorrow.

_- I could´ve given up everything!, we could have asked for a loan to my parents!, we could have devoted ourselves in body and soul to heal her!... -_ her mother lifted herself from the little chair, her withering look going through her father from beginning to end, her hand closed in a trembling fist. The gesture frightened the little girl. And it would scare her even more...

_- Look her!... Look at her damn!, she is your daughter!... my daughter!... our blood! -_ said the woman approaching the man and pointing to her, her face full of anger, masking what later she would understand was a secret shame.

Her father was never very expressive. But that time he didn´t even looked up to see her. She was a disappointment... she acknowledged it since the day she tried to do the things of her age without too much success. She tried... she did the best she could. She was giving her best every morning, afternoon and night, only to begin again the next day...

_It was never enough... not for him at least..._

_- Wish you were never born... -_ the man muttered bowing his head in a gesture of infinite sadness. A slap crossed that face.

_Where was her father?... that person before her was not her father..._

She couldn´t take it. She was only seven years old. She ran to try and mitigate the sudden and unexplained pain that gripped her, but the tightness in her chest became more and more strong, as the ravages of the rough seas when a storm is coming. That was what happened inside her, a feeling cold and empty that corrupted her. She left the house without even trying to hold back her tears.

She ran and ran until she couldn´t do it anymore. She let the water that flowed from her eyes bathe her and ruin the only dress that she had still intact. It was her favorite dress... She didn´t mind in the least...

_She was only seven years old...  
_

* * *

Her father, like the rest of her family, had gradually faded from her life, when she entered the Special Soldiers Program on the recommendation of an old acquaintance of her grandfather. She was not allowed to leave the premises of the EDF base, located in Bristol, near the estuary of river Severn. Despite the magnificent view of the Clifton Bridge, her internship to receive gene therapy and develop her skills kept her isolated, with visits only once every Christmas.

The first year, her ill-called "father", her mother and her relatives went to see her. She had finally excelled at something and they could tell that she was the "family pride", more important than the nonsenses her goofy cousin could inspire.

Next year no one save her mother went to see her. Her father was not present, and her mother pretended, with hesitant voice, she had left him at home, easing a severe cold. She repeated itself throughout the meal, she didn´t care that much...

The third year only her uncles went to see her to tell that her mother had died in a transport accident, while traveling from London via train. Her father coudn´t be located anywhere. Deluding herself about not caring was harder this time...

The fourth year no one came to see her... and the tears so long postponed, so long denied, flowed like the serene waters of the Bristol Channel.

It was then that she met Archer (Lieutenant Junior Grade Archer then). He approached her, when she was cursing her fate in silence. The last thing she needed was a fool to try to comfort her. But the lanky,.blond and pale young man, who later became her best friend, was too pushy...

Soon he convinced her to go to the feast of the institution, while threatening to make her laugh based on bad jokes. At first it seemed unfriendly and cocky, bad for dancing and even less subtle to laugh. But eventually many things, especially that strange accent that seemed to put "l"s in some words and drag the "r"s, and that easiness he had to cheer up those who were around him, seemed fascinating to her.

From that Christmas Eve and for the next five years she wouldn´t be alone. And when she learned that the young Archer was the nephew of this old man, which always stopped beside to check on her, which invariably had time to give her a warm smile, and which the sailors always referred respectfully as Commander Cadigan, she became glad about. It was at the last party wrought in those facilities when someone took that picture...

_That photo... of all the things she could have found in the damned ship... she had to find that memory... that picture where both were posing... she (would never forget it) with that a little forced smile which spoke tons about her dislike of cameras, him with that cheerful gesture that earned him the sympathy of everyone, and Commander Cadigan sanctioning the moment from behind, with that paternal typical visage... _

She turned to look again the officer's face. His countenance of peace touched a chord in her. Couldn´t quite explain why. She sat in front of him and shed another tear. Another furtive tear. She couldn t do anything else for that man. A futile gesture, declared her more rational side. Obviously useless...

Restrained the urge to hug him, to tell him how sorry she was having survived rather than accompanying him on his now endless journey. Choking the feeling of helplessness that came from remembering how things didn´t end the way they both wanted. Shattered the idea of the house they would share when they return to Earth, windows with curtains of silk and clean linen sheets adorning the beds of her home. The beautiful tapestry furniture springing from her runaway imagination. The image of the blond boy playing in the rooms of that house.

_All that could and wouldn´t be anymore, what she felt, what she wanted, all lost in the abyss of memory..._

The recalling of the man that believed, gripped her cruelly. She approached him and gently kissed his lips, exorcising the feeling of emptiness that held her. She stood up in a moment, watching him intently again, images of the possibilities assailed her one last time. She took the picture of the hand of the corpse and turned to see the dedication in faded ink, she made herself after the party. Sighed heavily and carefully stored the memorial in her suit´s pockets.

She rose above the pain and locked herself again. The white walls of her private corner of the Prado Museum were re-erected to contain her feelings. She couldn´t afford to feel anymore. Another similar dose of pain would destroy her...

The suit´s comm. beeped, and gave her the perfect excuse to go back to being herself... the living dummy to which the world seemed of little consequence.

* * *

_**Storage Vault, Engineering sub-deck, USM Valor,**_

_Two hours and forty minutes before the orbital no-return point._

Just as it had been established, Rodrigo Cortéz was making the first call to check on Lieutenant Edwards. While the young Mexican performed the call, Von Alper approached the door of the storage vault. According to the records of the ship, there were the necessary tools to remove the fuel container. It could also have a considerable amount of necromorphs, and it was quite possible that Von Alper, Yushchenko or whatever that old corpse had been called before, would have hesitated before opening the gate.

The Emissary was all of them and at the same time he was none. No fear of the unknown gripped him, he who had lived a literal eternity and seen millions of events. He couldn´t use his enormous capabilities while contained in that battered old body, but he got to know the Anathemas too well to expect a surprise. In addition, the improvised weapon he had found, seemed an interesting toy. It was not comparable to the arms that brought him glory as a conqueror of countless worlds and races, but it worked well in its task of keeping the anetsk' away from them.

The _anetsk' ... a_ shiver coursed through his body.

_The old name sounds more ominous since there´s no one left to remember it..._

The alien Methuselah opened the vault door and found several stores: Chemicals, engineering equipment, cables, pipes, taps and other things. There was also more of that leaking viscous substance, giving the room a rancid odor of fresh death. There, hidden between the stores, were a couple of kits containing tools. The Emissary took them and left the vault, closing the door while Cortéz stood guard.

Both headed toward the Engineering area, where the platinum blond had said it was the fuel container. These creatures... these humans... were clever, resourceful things. The Emissary remembered his own race when he saw them. The lost echo of a happier time came immediately to him. The majesty of the _Kaysrut'yun yev hazar aregak_ took him by surprise, causing the dimly lit corridors transmute into the gigantic and majestic rooms of his lost home.

* * *

He saw himself adorned with the green and silver uniform, with medals for countless wars fought over the one thousand two hundred years of his youth, all of them embedded along his skin. Proud as ever, as he appeared before the... Military leadership?... Government?... Ordinance?... Yes, that´s it!... the Ordinance of the largest Empire that had ever known the sapient creatures.

His memory was failing him slowly. He knew, since reviving the body of that man at the very end of his tiny life, his own memories were slowly becoming lost. The inexorable entropy spoiling everything. In that they were not similar. His old body was resistant to entropy, as only solid matter could be. This "natural death" that humans feared so much, visited the Oriontids after long time...

The bellicosity and aggressiveness of his people, however, were common points, easy ones for identification. His race had fought in wars from the very surface of their world to the ends of the universe and his conquests had brought light and prosperity to the farthest corners of _gagat'naket_: "The Pinnacle". His remote ancestors lived an odyssey, fighting against their enemies and utter and complete extinction.

"_Mor bolor paterazmneri"_, _the mother of all wars..._

At the end of the hostilities, honoring their tireless tenacity, the last of their enemies, an ancient and fearsome creature that was left of the records of the Oriontid people, gave them the Black Marker.

* * *

The Emissary didn´t realize Cortéz was talking to him, self-absorbed as he was in his blurred and fleeting memory, until the young Latino shook him gently. The alien turned to him with a fierce look, which aroused a look of surprise on the other, but he later softened his face, cursing softly he had been left in ecstasy for the memories.

They walked in silence for a few minutes until they reached the room in the middle of the Engineering deck. The Latin lit the room with the light coming from his gun, pushing back the darkness. He said nothing, but turned to see his partner, indicating him that they were not alone. The Emissary already knew, but didn´t bother to confirm it. He could see the silhouettes of the Anathemas, illuminated in the sickly yellow of his heat vision, since they entered. Hiding among the boxes and vents. They would not attack him, and moved away to let him pass, as the small fish swim away from the big fish. He could see them peering from their places, with their looks of hatred and uncertainty, their supremacy challenged, but with little or no hope of regaining the lost honor.

Cortéz went to the power nodes, and using a portable battery that came in the kits of tools, made a connection to the lighting circuits. The dimly light gradually replaced the darkness and, on distant corners the crowd of dead bodies lay piled there, left for all to see. The Emissary figured the scene: The Anathemas were to reproduce themselves and his presence had spoiled their little stunt. They were undecided between attacking him in mass, or waiting to see if the dangerous creature left. Since the Hive Mind died, they had a hard time making those decisions.

There was a laggard however, that came towards them. A lurker, who saw fit to challenge them from the top of a pumping machine. Surely the creature knew no fear. Crawling in a hurry, her little feet carrying it on all fours as it dropped shrill cries that would give goose bumps to many. It lunged towards the Emissary with its tentacles unscrewed, three sharp barbs ready to pierce his body.

Cortéz saw the scene as if happening in slow motion. The creature lunged against his fellow, and he didn´t react to defend himself. Von Alper however, was far from surprised. One sidestep and the monster´s attack failed miserably. With surprising speed the Teutonic of Jewish descent fired his gun from the hip. No kickbacks, no misfires, no waste of time. The creature, which had passed by without even touching him, received the gravitons discharge at close range. The sheer force of the shot elongated the body of the undead, distorting its face, ripping the tentacles of its little torso unmercifully, and sending it to the other side of the room, crashing spectacularly against the wall and leaving a huge patch of blood that extended to the ground, when the lifeless body fell. Not a whimper, the end was swift.

The disguised alien looked up and smiled a slight grin of satisfaction that passed unnoticed. He checked the grilles and air ducts of the room without finding signs of any other figure. The young man displayed his weapon and braced for worst, but after a look of his companion, lowered the contraption. Von Alper shook his head and said in a high enough voice that they wouldn´t bother them for a while.

While working on removing the container that would be transported to the Ishimura, the Emissary got lost again in his memories.

* * *

The Black Marker was the gift of the defeated enemy, and it brought them prosperity. It saw them grow, expand, develop. For hundreds of thousands of years it flooded with riches, honors and light the Oriontid people. In the shadow of the relic, they prospered and became strong. It´s presence enlightened them gradually. From it they learned civilizing arts that they would teach to the rest of the universe. Inspired them developments to make weapons, ships and other wonders that surpassed anything known.

The images were fuzzy at that point, but the scenes the Emissary perceived involved traveling between stars and galaxies. He could remember the names of a hundred colonies, among the thousands that covered the vastness of the "Pinnacle."

_And so it happened that while exploring the universe, they found something strange..._

Isolated, in a cluster adjacent to _sahmanagitsy tesaneli luysi_, "the limit of the visible light", a theoretical barrier that marked the end of the lit up universe, obscured by massive amounts of space dust, they found a remote planet, dead and desolate, wandering aimlessly, far away from any star. A planet with a retrograde rotation. The Emissary had seen examples of these planets, having traveled much of the universe, so that a singularity of this kind was not strange to him.

When checking the planet with their long-range sensors, found it was full of dust and radiation. And yet, distinguishable from the gray clouds covering the entire celestial body, they found ruins. Huge buildings, grandiose constructions that spoke of a culture whose bygone glories had survived them.

He had known many civilizations in his life. He had seen the Medusa Whales, whose minds dominated aerated bodies, ideal to survive on planets with high levels of radiation and gravity, and had a particular bioluminiscence, like the creatures of the wide sea of his home-world.

Had talked with the Guardians of Endia, the technological world, whose inhabitants had evolved into inorganic life in search of true transcendence.

Had conversed with the Puppeteers, manipulating and self-beneficial creatures that rejoiced in devising long-term planning schemes for its twisted convenience.

He admired the marvels of the Proteans, a race of sapient beings who built magnificent and monumental works such as those of his own people.

His failing memory hinted that there were other people, so great and wonderful as his own, enlarging "The Pinnacle" with their very existence.

Yet nothing could prepare him for the meeting he had on the surface, with the parody of life there remaining. Their ferocity exceeded everything known, and in a few moments threatened the survival of the small reconnaissance team sent to check the planet. But the superior technology of his troops and his own experience saved the mission.

The next expedition to the surface was better prepared. The Oriontid Ordinance of War had given explicit orders to bring information or samples of living or extinct cultures that were found in their trips. The Emissary himself decided it was necessary to establish a presence on the planet and capture a specimen of the local fauna. Scientists on the expedition were very interested, as few creatures in the _gagat'naket_ had been so aggressive. Sooner than later they had the opportunity and the specialists destroyed a small group of creatures, capturing several others to meet the requirement.

What the social scientists discovered however, left them even more intrigued. Samples of information they found revealed a very advanced civilization. Not as much as the Oriontid people, but no less magnificent. And in the center of these data lay a kind of ritual script, identical to the symbols that adorned the body of the most sacred relic of his people: The Black Marker.

Shock took hold of them. The Emissary restricted sending news to the Empire, until it had more information. After several years, when linguists and social engineers and scientists had gathered substantial data, the Emissary decided it was time to return to the heart of their civilization. Information discovery and the specimen raised serious questions about the development and possible fate of the Oriontid people, and the Emissary was curious about what that information might mean.

* * *

The alien turned back to reality when Cortéz said they were ready to take the fuel tank. The cylinder, about five feet long, was too heavy for just a worker to manipulate with the kinetic module. Two workers however, could easily carry it. The old warrior, who had been working on inertia, made a nod to the human. The Latin activated his comm. and contacted Lt. Edwards, who informed him that she had cleared the way to one of the largest front airlocks of the ship. She also told them she was about to reach their position.

Rodrigo´s RIG established a data link with hers and the map of the ship was upgraded with the route that the woman had created for them. Verified everything was in working order and reviewed the working clock. They had less than an hour and forty minutes to bring the fuel to the Engineering deck of the Ishimura.

They placed themselves at the ends of the tube, adjusted the heavy weapons they carried on their backs and activated their kinetic modules. An energy sphere was established around the reservoir and the container turned as light as a feather. The room´s door opened, revealing the eltee, with the Arc Welder in her hands:

_- Let's go. Time is running out fast - _

On that cue, the three characters walked through the lonely and dark corridors. One of the faster creatures tried to stand in their way, but took a high intensity discharge of the weapon of the military, and all that remained of the monster was a pile of charred and smelly flesh. A Jumper tried to ambush them, but a hand movement of the female and her suit´s stasis module unleashed a blue barrage that paralyzed the attacker. A couple of shots of the plasma cutter and the threat was out. After that they weren´t attacked anymore.

As they walked, the Emissary tried to remember his arrival at _Nefrit Tsaghki_, the main city of the Empire. The images were broken in some places and his mind was not enough sharp to identify certain signs and ritual screams. What he did remembered, was the Oriontids gathered to parade their arrival though the main road. The multicolored flashes of the city, with its shrill joy, welcomed him. People were amazed when the vehicle carrying the main tank passed by, displaying the hostile creatures they had captured, permanently frozen in stasis.

He walked regally, up to the front of the seat of government. The large domed building long as a cathedral, silhouetted against the sunset red, orange and black of the three suns of his home planet, with solid walls made of strange and precious materials that would have dismissed the gold, silver and jewels of this new universe as mere trinkets, framing the figure of the Black Marker that watched over them all from the main concourse.

The only thing the Emissary would never forget, was the time when the triumphant parade stopped their journey in front of the monolith and made the ritual greeting to their apocryphal deity. By the time his hands did the ritual symbol of good fortune, he thought he heard a voice. A sound old, gaunt, eaten away by time, like the attenuated noise of rocks being fractured by a superhuman force. It was in equal measure the thoughts and whispers of the Medusa Whales and the acute data transmissions of the Guardians, the clear thoughts and phrases of the Proteans and the off-ravings and secrets of the Puppeteers...

_And it had the mellifluous malevolence of a damned voice ... _

The wisdom and long life of their race had not prepared him for such a voice. Nor for the fact that only he seemed to have heard it, so powerful and clear as he had done. His mind didn´t believe what his ears acknowledged. The other members of his entourage didn´t notice his broken gesture, but he could never forget the decisive feeling of evil that haunted him. He never would...

_The end of his entire universe had just begun..._

Von Alper's face contracted into a grimace that seemed pain and nostalgia at the same time. Rodrigo couldn´t help but look at that face suddenly aged as they walked, and a hunch warned him that something was very wrong. The Lieutenant also looked at him at that moment, but if she noticed something in the wrinkled German-Jewish, it passed unnoticed. When the road opened by the Lieutenant took them near the exit gate, they stopped while the military woman introduced the relevant orders on the data panel and made sure there were no more enemies nearby. While she worked Cortéz looked at his companion and asked timidly:

_- Dawid, what happens?, what is it? -_

_- Nothing special boy. Old and useless memories. Make a favor to this old coot and tell him: What will you do with the Marker?, I remember hearing you mention it, or something about it -_ his voice sounded tired as if countless years had fallen on his partner.

_- That... look... the Marker can isolate the creatures... create a containment field in an area, to prevent them from getting closer. As Isaac Clarke told us, it is like a machine, a highly sophisticated one. We´ll bring it back to the ship and enable it to protect us -_

The Emissary´s face suddenly hardened and a look of undisguised pain squeezed his face. His mind was brutally assaulted by the images of the studies that the Dean had made to the relic, the activation of the Marker, the sudden escape of the Anathemas and the chaos they created in the city. He recalled the last sentence of the Dean before it decided to turn on the relic:

_- It will protect us - _

He suffered the unspeakable again, reliving the countless millions of years that the relic had kept him alive, separating his body from his mind. Destroying his mortal vessel and proceeding to impart him a knowledge that made him mad and shattered his mind to bits, only to reunite it again, after countless years.

When he realized it, it was too late already. This device, the gift from a vicious and fearsome creature, which had given hope and peace to his people for countless years, had destroyed the universe. When the Dean activated, the device had saved them, keeping him and others alive, while launching the "Pinnacle" he had conquered, that had brought him honors and fortune, that he had dominated for the glory of the Oriontid people, to the vacuum of sub-quantum decay. A sad and cruel joke of entropy, irreversible and irreparable, even for him, Oriontid of quasi-eternal life and endless knowledge.

_Thanks to that damned rock, I am a cosmic bad joke!..._

* * *

The Lieutenant opened the door, the sound of sealed vapor flooding the environment. Went down a little over the main ramp which was deployed from the ship, into the cold, zero-g zone of the storage and fried a pair of Lurkers who were unprepared. She motioned to her companions that she would go ahead to check the road. She didn´t turn to see the answer.

However, noise came through his comm., marred by the locale static: A grotesque roar, a metallic sound and muffled groans. The Lieutenant felt fear flooding her veins. She ran back to the ship to verify the situation.

The cylindrical container that the two men brought was falling in her direction, rushing down the ramp and forcing her to dodge the huge tube hastily. When she finished ascending, found Von Alper holding Cortéz over the neck, above his head with his left hand, making no apparent effort. The Latin struggled in vain to release himself from the uniquely strong grip of his companion, while uttering stifled groans. With his right hand the stout man pointed the Accelerator towards her. The eltee realized all of a sudden how dangerous her situation was. Just reached to jump while the short blond man shot her from a few meters. The cone of attack of the weapon was not particularly big, but it was enough to project her with uncontrollable force to the opposite wall of the room. The woman crashed into the metal walls and didn´t recover immediately.

The Emissary didn´t release the struggling Cortéz and, conversely, used the weapon he was carrying, to strike a couple of times against the body of his opponent and then whip him a few times against the inner walls of the ramp. If his prey was still conscious, he didn´t care at all. Threw the body of his opponent to make company to the woman, who was floating unconscious in the zero gravity space of the giant warehouse.

The stocky and squat miner walked down the ramp and grabbed the fuel cylinder, as if carrying a sack of feathers. Then threw it against the unsuspecting youths who were recovering. The military reacted just in time, calling her stasis module at the time the giant tube was about to hit them. The blue anti-entropic load reached the metal container in time to mitigate the movement of the object. At the same time Rodrigo made a painful effort and neutralized the inertia of the projectile with his kinetic module.

The Emissary however, Was not about to stop and wait. In a second he was over them, darting at high speed, striking the lieutenant savagely with the Accelerator. Cortéz received a kick that propelled him to the ground, crashing mercilessly, leaving its silhouette outlined on the metal panels.

The small German man activated the magnetic boots that were part of his garment and stuck to the ground. Walked towards them with a deadly smile on his face. Cortéz laboriously got on his feet in time to deal with him. Took the R-C Disc Ripper from his back and quickly fired several circular saws to him, but the alien didn´t even flinch. The first one was embedded in his unprotected hand, but in response he moved his gun accordingly. The graviton acceleration shot deviated the deadly blades, making them bounce into the walls of the huge room. Without allowing his opponent to fire another barrage, he took the arm where he carried the gun and twisted it into a nearly impossible angle. A dry crack and a scream of pain after the young Latin dropped his powerful saw. The Emissary hit him on the base of the neck and the collar pads of the suit visibly bent.

He left Rodrigo as he tried in vain to get rid of the metal collar pads, the kevlar coating which formed the inner lining of the suit being penetrated and cutting his neck inexorably. He turned and approached Stephany Edwards, who drifted, semi-unconscious. The disguised alien pulled her arm, driving her towards him, and putting her over his shoulder, walked steadily toward the control panel that controlled the lower cargo hatch. The refined mineral packages that were stored in that particular bay of the ship were removed through that gate. While typing some commands into the control panel, he heard a whisper above the anxious and frantic cries of the Mexican:

_- Why? -_

The question came from the girl's bruised body. Smiling, amused by the situation, grabbed the military woman from the neck as he finished typing the instructions that would open the doors of that cargo bay into the blackness of the void. Affording himself the luxury of indulgence, lifted the mask from the helmet of the young woman, her green eyes looking at quiver of helplessness before the hold of his powerful adversary.

_- Why?, do you ask why, helpless creature?... I´ll satisfy your morbid curiosity so you can die knowing... -_ the Emissary said, not bothering to conceal his identity anymore. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, holding the military without destroying her.

_- That damn red stone that floats in space, is a replica of an unfortunate artifact older than your universe and mine together... when my people discovered the secret of its operation, experimented with its enormous power. We were great before this, but the secrets of the "kronakan patkeraky" put us above all other races in the universe - _

Hoped the blond would say something, but silence was the only response. Without caring too much he continued:

_- In the end however, the relic betrayed us. It led to the destruction of everything I knew... absolutely everything! - _Paused himself a moment and looked around as if evoking something in his memory. Didn´t lose too much time dwelling on it_ - The entire universe collapsed before my eyes. Everything went as you say ... "to hell"... but a cruel joke of fate made me survive. I was forgiven by the evil entity!, I saw all things deteriorate and disappear by the action of that damn rock!, and now you come to me saying you should turn it on to survive! - _

Fury assaulted him without respite. The Lieutenant watched the burly man's face turn an intense pale, with the veins bypassing his translucent face. The pressure on her neck grew and began to lack air. No longer she heard the groans of Rodrigo Cortéz and she couldn´t check her RIG to find out if he was alive. Suddenly an abrupt change in pressure and a violent gust of wind told her that the lunatic had opened the lower gate. She could see action of ebullism taking its toll on him, as the man's body quickly swell, blood streaming from his nose and ears, and on his lips and eyes a thin frost being formed. Had he been human, he would have died within a few seconds. The Lieutenant seriously doubted that the being she was facing was once human.

_- I will destroy that damn artifact. I will not go back into the darkness, I will not...! -_ the Emissary said in a frantic tone.

Having said that, put the military on the empty hole and let go. He could see the streak of fear on the face of the woman. Her eyes did not give rise to doubts. He saw her quickly going away while muttering something that he never came to listen. Her thin body was shaking while the empty blackness enveloped her. In a few seconds she stopped struggling and the Emissary did not bother to find out more.

_A heart sacrificed to wicked gods to prevent destruction... _


	14. Shadow of a Doubt

_**Dead Space**_ and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), _**Mirror´s Edge**_ and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve:**

**Shadow of a Doubt.**

_**USG Ishimura, On route to the Storage Deck.**_

_Three hours and forty minutes before orbital No-return point. _

Isaac was turning from side to side of the tram, while it was inexorably approaching the station that connected with the Storage Deck. The tension was raging in him and frankly he couldn´t help it. He had had several scares since the first time he went into the ship, and was certainly trying to do as much as possible to avoid falling back into the mental games imposed by the relic. That however, was becoming increasingly difficult.

He was doubting again the benefits of having been carried away by his compassion and returning to save his current partners. The horror was taking seat on his mind again and could do little to get rid of it. Not even the memory of Nicole's angelic face gave him any consolation. It seemed that the moments they had spent together just a few hours ago, had already happened ages ago. And in light of the recent events, they seemed more distant. He quickly searched his memory, tracking which of the latest developments was causing him such tension. He couldn´t remember any specifics.

He looked to Lieutenant Edwards, lost as she was in God only knows what lonely corner of her mind. Her green eyes gave no clue of where her consciousness was transported and if the world revolved around her, she didn´t seem to notice.

Sergei was curled up on the other end of the car, taking a nap. The only thing that distinguished him from the dead bodies of the rest of the ship, was the slow, rhythmic and monotonous movement of his chest when breathing, apparently too slow for a man of his height. He was still holding the pulse rifle in his hands (probably a part of his conditioning as a soldier). He left him rest. It was better that he was cool and clear in case of any eventuality.

He tried to imitate his two companions and let his mind wander to the events that had brought them there...

* * *

_**Captain´s Nest, Bridge, USG Ishimura,**_

_Twenty minutes before..._

_- This is crazy -_ he murmured in a low tone, while sitting in the command chair of the Bridge of the ship. The sight of the convulsed Aegis VII, from the cristeel panoramic window dominating the room, revealed the planet's tectonic activity. The spot where the colony was supposed to be, was now a sea of fire and chaos becoming a most dark reminder that time was running out for them quite quickly.

_- Exactly my first thought Mr. Clarke -_ the voice of the Asian Ribbel came from behind him. The slender woman paced back and forth like a caged animal. She seemed quiet, but that apparent calm was only scratch deep. One needed little more than looking a bit deeper to find the notes of anxiety in her behavior. Sergei saw her walking around the room, while sitting at one end of the room, dedicated to disarm his weapon and give it maintenance.

_- Calm down Miss Connors! -_ the engineer said turning to her and putting a serious face that they had seldom seen.

_- You should have realized already that this "nut job" is only putting herself at risk, and us with her! -_ the Asian retorted immediately. The said ignored the comment.

_- Lieutenant... -_ Isaac asked, dismissing the comments of his partner _- Would you be so kind to repeat please... What are you going to do? -_ to the British woman while sighing.

_- To join Rodrigo Cortéz and his companion Von Alper on their journey to the USM Valor, where they will collect metal-hydrogen fuel reserves to re-supply the tanks of this ship -_ cleared the Lieutenant undeterred. Her green eyes were fixed on a spot on the wall and her face showed no signs of any kind of emotion.

Isaac shook his head. He could hardly believe it. When the semi-autistic official said it the first time, he knew almost without a doubt that it would be the only way forward. If they weren´t able to get their hands on that fuel, they could as well consider themselves dead already:

_- You insist on accompanying them why?. What can you possibly do to assist them in an engineering work that you have already accepted without hesitation, know next to nothing about? -_

_- Because she has lost her mind completely!, because of that! -_ said the willowy brunette, with a grimace of pure contempt.

_- Ribbel... -_ The Ukrainian´s voice sounded calm and restored. Isaac appreciated the calmness with which the young soldier was taking things. The previous hours hadn´t been very kind to them and the last thing they needed was to explode at each other.

_- Mr Clarke, I have reasons to believe I can facilitate their work, using some means of the ship... -_

_**A few minutes later:**_

_- Let´s recap... it is possible to disassemble the ship through commands entered from the C.I.C. area, which would facilitate the work of Rodrigo and his friend - _the slender Asian approached the military and began to lap around. Her steely gaze was that of a vulture ready to pounce on the carcass.

_- Yes - _the other woman was not intimidated at all.

_- But it is only possible with the authorization codes of the commanding officer - s_he faced her, but the other woman remained unmoved.

_- Right - _if it was a battle, the iceberg-like woman was winning by a wide margin.

_- And you, of all people, know where the second in command´s RIG is... - _the gesture of disgust and arm movements left no doubt how little the raven-haired girl trusted her.

_- You have understood perfectly - _Isaac swore he could see a vague hint of a wry smile on the platinum blond´s face.

_- How come this doesn´t seem highly suspicious to you? -_ the thin woman gave up and rebuked the two men. She needed to vent her anxiety.

_- For the love of god Ms. Connors!... the last thing we need now is paranoia! -_ scolded the mature engineer. The woman was about to claim, but the voice of the Ukrainian stopped her.

_- What happens if the computer systems are damaged? -_ he asked while still doing his chore.

_- The modular system allows for emergency dis-assembly by manual means. It is very risky, but the most volatile explosive components of the ship have burned already. UMAS has reduced the access of oxygen to the Storage Area. Therefore, any possibility of explosion is negligible -_ the british replied calmly.

Isaac sighed. He couldn´t forbid the military to put her ass to risk, especially if her actions were for the common good. He was not the leader of that failed and desperate group, or at least he didn´t thought of himself so. All consulted him because he had survived a stay in that hell of a ship, but he knew in his heart that he lacked the qualities to lead a group, and that's why his group was falling apart, damaged. He disliked the idea of getting into that monstrosity that was the Valor... hell!... he was at odds even with the mere idea of the autistic woman traveling alone to the Storage Area!. He never had the necessary scruples to make the tough calls. How he would have liked to consult this decision, apparently simple, with Captain Hammond!...

Calmed himself down and thought for a moment the most rational possible way. It was a risky gamble but, should they succeed, they would be a step closer to salvation:

_- I´m telling you frankly, Miss Edwards: I don´t like the idea of disturbing out the nest on that ship. Found by myself things are bad enough there for me to want to return. But I understand that we need the fuel. And we have activated the major possible systems from here. So I´m suggesting we all better go to the cargo area... -_

_- Hold your horses Mr. Clarke! - _said both women in unison and turned to look at each other, surprised. The Ukrainian giant drew a single smile.

_- They´re both right Mr. Clarke - _commented UMAS, becoming noticed for the first time since they started the conversation. His blue avatar projected from the roof and looked at them one by one_ - If there is a mishap in the Valor, we are more likely to reduce our losses if only the proper people go. In addition, a large group would draw more attention and that is not suitable at this time -_

The logic displayed by the machine was final, but It didn´t make him feel any good about that, in any way.

_- I guess UMAS is right, little as I like it ... -_

* * *

The situation had changed somewhat in the last twenty minutes, but it hadn´t made him feel any relief.

There was also the subject of his mind playing dirty tricks on him. He thought that watching the tormented ghost of Nicole and having found that closure for her soul would have immunized him against the intervention of the Marker. But he had found sooner than later that nothing could save him from the hallucinations and cold sweats.

Left aside the concern when the tram started braking and the Lieutenant told him it was time to take their own paths. The woman adjusted the Plasma cutter to the magnetic plate on her armor and grabbed the Arc Welder. The monorail doors opened and the military moved away, deep into the corridors of the Storage Deck. Isaac only managed to release a sigh and settled into the seat of the carriage, while it began again its journey, now on to the Landing Deck.

* * *

_**Captain´s Nest, Bridge, USG Ishimura,**_

_Three hours and ten minutes before orbital No-return point._

Ribbel shifted again in the uncomfortable command chair on the Bridge. How Isaac had managed to convince her to wait while they went to search for the materials, was beyond her understanding. It was also in turn, cause of a sudden frustration, that made her blood pressure rise, giving to her usually pale face, a ruddy color that didn´t suit her.

Saw with boredom the image of the surveillance cameras scattered throughout the ship. _There aren´t many operational now_ she thought_,_ while reviewing the places where their hostile "fellow travelers" passed occasionally. Although the population manifest showed at least a thousand people (of which, between the ones perished in Clarke´s previous raid and the ones faced as a group, at least thirty percent had destroyed, according to the most conservative estimates), the necromorphic presence had not waned. It somehow seemed to have strengthened (especially with the new ones brought in by the Valor) and those remaining had developed a greater ferocity than before.

It became essential to bring back the Marker and put it into operation soon. That's why Isaac and Sergei were gone... to accompany the wacky Lt. Edwards and get to one of the Landing sub-decks to find a gadget that they needed.

She recalled the grimace of great interest of UMAS when it spoke about it...:

_- Mr Clarke, there´s something you might like to recover from the Landing Deck... - _the construct appeared before them, almost by surprise. They had finished discussing the trip to the Valor, when everyone jumped from their seats.

_- And what could that be UMAS? - _Isaac asked with a frown of temper.

The blue simulacrum projected a holographic image for all to see. It was some sort of electronic module built on a "T" connection piece, of about four inches long by five wide. It seemed to have integrated circuitry on its surface, and ended on a pair of nozzles that could be easily re-oriented. The Schofield Tools logo engraved on the body appeared on both pieces. It was a piece of machinery that Ribbel knew quite well...

_- One "DELTA"!, yes!... It´ll be very useful - _she said advancing to the hologram_ - where exactly is it UMAS? -_

_- On Landing sub-deck number nine, accessible from the main hangar -_

_- Is that what I think it is? - _Sergei asked, genuinely interested.

_- "Directional Extravehicular Light Traffic Application" model STCH-1015 from Schofield Tools, more commonly known as "DELTA". Operates on electrical power from any RIG and uses hydrogen peroxide as propulsion. It is capable of one-hour flight if continuously used or up to four hours if used in short bursts. It has a built-in stabilizers on the nozzles for better maneuverability in zero gravity and fits almost any armor... -_ the Asian said, reciting the specifications by memory. It was standard protocol for all space workers to know how to use one of those. A smile of triumph was painted on her face:

_- ...but it works wonders with an Astro-suit -_ motioned to her newly acquired dress.

_- And this we´ll use to do exactly... what? -_ Sergei asked again.

_- To retrieve the Marker -_ Lieutenant Edwards said calmly.

_- Right - _Interrupted UMAS, displaying an orbital map _- Since the monolith is approximately three kilometers away from the ship, in the area where the residual debris from the "cork" accumulates, there´s no way we can get it safely. __Therefore, one of you should use the module, and fly up there, bring the Marker and place it in the Cargo area of the ship delivering it through one of the sub-flight decks... __-_

Ribbel came out of her reverie. The plan was simple, but there were risks to consider. She had no doubt of being able to manage the device (she made a living of doing that kind of stuff at work). But maneuvering in an area filled with floating debris in zero gravity was not a very encouraging prospect, and since they had noticed the presence of the flying necromorphs, it became even less. It was difficult to recover an orbiting object (even if it was something as big as the Marker) to have the addition of murderous beasts breathing down her neck.

Then there was the matter of the Valor. They wouldn´t be able to try and catch the giant stone while the proper corrections to orbit weren´t made, and that depended on Rodrigo Cortéz, his friend and the "nutjob" Lieutenant Edwards, who had decided to help them.

_To top it, they decided that she should stay "to hold the fort", while they fixed the damage and got the materials..._

She felt bad... on her mind raged the word "stupid." She knew doing a tantrum was something childish, but that didn´t stop her from such display. Her behavior hasn´t been a model of moderation during the last twenty four hours and now that she was alone with her thoughts again, deeply regretted not having acted to rise to the occasion.

She thought that much was due in part to the presence of the British soldier, but had to admit that it had been very easy to work with her, once they found a common ground. She recalled that after their fight on the mainframe, when their companions returned, found them working side by side. Bad blood between the two was a thing known and therefore the situation disconcerted them. They analyzed data and watched video signals from the cameras, reporting their findings to each other and sharing ideas as a well coordinated team…

Told them how they had found Rodrigo on the Engineering Deck. The news filled Sergei with enthusiasm, who proposed to go in his search quickly. But having lost the signal so abruptly, they couldn´t know for sure what had happened. As a priority, they decided to restart other subsystems. That would make it easier to find the lost Mexican again. Several of them could only be re-initialized from the Captain's Nest, so once again the two men armed themselves and left.

Lieutenant meanwhile accelerated the recovery of the new UMAS, and having done that the girls were given the task of tracking your partner. The biggest surprise was finding that he was alive and in company with another survivor.

The cooperative spirit had been gone since then ...

The Asian banged the chair, which only brought her a little pain and no relief from her stress. Turned off the signal from the cameras focused on other areas of the ship, and remained only with the images of the Bridge, Landing and Storage decks. She rose from the chair and turned to a corner of the reinforced room where the supplies were stored. Some of the things that Rodrigo rescued from the destroyed shuttle were there. She checked the gear and retrieved an energy bar to appease her hunger and anxiety. Standing out from the rations, was a kind of hard, crystal-clear disk, without any ID prints. It came protected in a transparent plastic holder, which looked a bit battered.

Pulled the object from the bag. It was like any old CD and its kin, before twenty-third century´s miniaturization technology turned them into tiny little objects the size of an elevator button, just to get obsolete later with the new methods of quantum molecular read and write stages. Ribbel was no expert in technology (she in fact left many of the annoying aspects of keeping up to date with electronic gadgets to her hacker of confidence, Drake), but she could swear that this disk was unlike anything she had ever seen. Puzzled, she did what she normally would, when faced with a similar dilemma...

_- UMAS? -_

The pale blue avatar appeared in front of her, forcing a half smile.

_- What can i do for you Miss Connors? - _

This new UMAS she liked less than the previous. Its appearance had changed somewhat. Instead of the gentle and wise old man who appeared first, this one seemed a little younger. Its eyes however, had a more grim look. A dark blue line ran vertically down the front and the outline of its face, accentuating its now more square grimace. Its gestures had undergone a remarkable transformation and behavior had turned in a direction that she disliked. It had become more aggressive in their treatment and more sullen. The nobility and helpfulness of the previous personality had been relegated to the background, replaced by patronizing behavior which, while not shocking, still represented a more radical change...

_- Can you recognize this piece of technology? -_ she asked showing the object in front of him.

_- No, Miss Connors, but it seems an interesting "toy"... -_ the construct approached her, floating in the air and observing the device from every possible side _- What I am sure of, is that its a storage medium. I can try to read it if you like, there is some "old fashioned" hardware capable of that around here -_ it said condescendingly.

A computer tray opened in one of the consoles near the command chair. Having the latest hardware be compatible with what appeared to be old technology, was always a good idea, prevalent in electronics design on Earth, and one that the C.E.C. had adopted because of convenience. The Asian deposited the disc on the tray and it closed smoothly. UMAS began making gestures:

_- Recognizing format ... quantum recording CRAM-26, hyper-high density recording. Adjusting the hardware´s blue laser intensity for proper reading. Recognizing header information... recognized headers... quantum encryption format entanglement. I am not able to break it... high level of encryption. Special algorithms are required to de-crypt this medium -_

_- Let it rest UMAS, we'll see what to do with it later - _the tray opened and the disc became exposed, she took it and, keeping it in its holster, made herself comfortable in the chair again. Just at the very moment when she had a hunch:

_- UMAS ... Can you get the recordings of the security cameras of the spacecraft during the last hour? - _she wondered revolving on the chair.

_- Yes... - _said the A.I._ - Anything in your mind Miss Connors? -_

_- Look for videos from the last four hours, of the outer corridor of station forty-eight of the ADS -_ ordered the brunette with a strange anxiety permeating through her skin.

_- Accessing now ... -_ on the main screen of the office were displayed the recordings of the last hours. However the image was distorted and blurred in places:

_- Data errors in different areas of the recording. Semi-reparable partial degradation of the info... Didn´t expect anything less after such a catastrophic failure!... I can adjust the image by changing some parameters, but I'll take around thirty to forty minutes -_

_- Do it UMAS, and let me know when you're done -_ Ribbel said wincing discomfort. How Rodrigo had come out at the other side of the ship, was a mystery that would take still a little longer than expected to be solved.

_- Proceeding... -_

Ribbel leaned back in the chair. It would be some too long minutes...

* * *

_**Landing Sub-Deck nine, USG Ishimura,**_

_Two hours and forty minutes before no-return point..._

Isaac Clarke nodded at his partner and they moved quietly to the threshold of one of the reception rooms. Pointed to vents, hoping that some of their unfriendly neighbors would come out to meet them. The furniture, mostly composed of comfortable sofas and chairs, was torn and blood stained in several places. On the wall was the body of a necromorph, died in transformation, starting from the template of a man with black features, impaled in the center of his chest with what looked like a huge metal rod. There were bags and special-storage boxes, scattered in some corners and the little light that illuminated the room gave things a bilious and unhealthy tone. Definitive signs of a bloody battle...

There was no sign of the monsters though.

They had destroyed several Jumpers and Lurkers on their way to this room. Broken vents, the smell of charred flesh and bullet holes in some walls and ceiling of the runners were silent witnesses to that. However, the strength and the very little presence of the enemy they´d found was minimal.

Isaac had a bad feeling and that bothered him. He was not a man to be led by his guts. Nicole and him differed on that. He used to see life from a rational standpoint, she, more varied in her beliefs, from others. This marked difference was one of the things that he loved from her. Sometimes she had flashes, sensations. _Call them foreboding if you like Isaac,_ she said, taking his hand while watching the sunset around the university where they had first met. T_hey´re only stings of that sixth sense that every women have. Sometimes they lead me, sometimes they give me the momentum needed to do certain things..._

His mind had dismissed it all. _Fraud, fables of old,_ he argued. But it was undeniable that the his thin, blond, beloved lady, sometimes surprised him with hasty decisions, which ultimately proved correct. Maybe that's why the Monolith chose to speak through her. Or maybe it was for another reason... who could tell?...

Since they had said goodbye to each other at the shuttle, he had begun to experience some of those flashes. Few and far between. They led him to find and rescue his comrades. They were also present when they discovered the Marker, floating among the debris of the "cork". They had visited him a little more, making him turn in the right directions during the most necessary moments. But with them returned the hallucinations. First small and not very annoying... afterwards they became more terrible...

Now that very sense told him something was wrong. Slapped Sergei on its side and advanced covering their backs, as they turned, peering through each other´s blind spots. As a precautionary measure Isaac used the makeshift flamethrower he had brought with him, and sprayed fire to several of the vents that were still intact, waiting to cause a reaction.

No sign... nothing.

They reached the center of the room without any occurrence. Both checked around. Then Isaac verified the address with the holographic guide pointing the way to their target. Without such help, it was easy to get lost in the workings of the giant ship. The guide, only a thin stream of blue light projected into the room´s floor, indicated the right side of the room. There was a door that was not locked electronically. With care, the two men continued their advance. The containment field of the door recognized the presence of the RIG´s in their suits and opened, with that unmistakable whining sound of motors and servos that was characteristic of the entire ship.

It was the entrance to one of the shuttle storage rooms. One that, as many others on the ship, remained empty. A walkway with a guardrail, framed a pit about eight by eight meters, with at least six deep. Dark, smelly, tenebrous. The indicator pointed to one end of the right corridor, an area of utter darkness. Isaac advanced guided by the tiny light that his suit provided (confined to the reaches of his makeshift weapon). The darkness would not bring them anything good. Motioned the Ukrainian to stop and immediately launched a small discharge of the flamethrower to a wall. The darkness retreated before them, only to reveal two creatures nestled in the far wall.

_- No... not these things again ... -_

Sergei stopped and looked behind the American, with singular disappointment, to those monstrosities. It almost came to his mind the time when they found a similar creature. "Guardians" Clarke had said. They had degenerated, from mourner bodies for which he felt anger and pity, to something that could only inspire horror. They were the grotesque cross between an insect cocoon with a rotting corpse. Blisters and stripes adorned their body, and a flat tip protruded from the cocoon. It looked like a human head, horribly transfigured, in which a rictus of pain and fear was insinuated. They didn´t seem to react to the light illuminating the room, but issued weak moans that seemed easy to ignore, eventually managing to unnerve even the bravest.

The blond soldier verified his guide and found with horror that the device was in the only cabinet located on the space between the two creatures.

_- What shall we do? -_ he asked to the bewildered engineer.

_-__- We can´t approach within three meters of those -_ pointed to the repulsive creatures _- And according to UMAS´ information, the DELTA module is stored and locked in that locker... -_

_- So there is no choice ... -_-

_- We´d better hurry. Come with me boy! -_

An idea crossed the mind of Isaac, and he did check the room from top to bottom, searching. When he finally found what he wanted, approached Sergei and explained his plan. The Ukrainian made a few gestures of approval and both readied immediately.

The blond soldier walked toward the end of the room where the Guardians were. Those didn´t seem to notice his presence, but as soon as he was within three meters, there was a reaction. A number of tentacles sprang out of the cocoon, breaking some blood vessels of the rotting bodies, embedding themselves to the wall. Their arms looked like bloody cilia, protrusions ending in suction cups. Sergei didn´t know what part of the body was used to transform into such a monstrosity, let alone what would happen if he was caught by any of them. Both creatures let out a sound that was both a wail and a cry of pain. And then something even more bizarre and grotesque happened. The cocoons opened slightly, suggesting a kind of fleshy valve. One of them spat out a piece of meat that came to lay almost beside him.

_- Drop to the ground Sergei, now! -_

The soldier didn´t expect to be told twice. He fell back a little and looked at the engineer using the telekinesis module to manipulate one of those metal cylinders with bright red stripes, and a huge warning symbol engraved on its body, whose contents were flammable. In less than a second it was thrown to him and bent his head instinctively. He heard a loud explosion and looked back to see the creature writhing in pain. Its tentacles had been severed by the force of the explosion, and although the body hadn´t suffered too much damage, the creature moaned furiously, only to drop a viscous liquid, dripping, to end its agony.

The explosion rolled the piece of meat next to him. The Ukrainian looked at the moment, and all his composure vanished when he saw a crack open like an eye. Her heart leaped and fell back startled, rising as fast as he could. He raised the rifle to shoot, while the little monster was growing a tentacle like his progenitor, but ended in a sharp tip. A pulse rifle blast shattered the spine of the creature, but also prevented him from hearing the cry of warning from his partner. A snap and a sensation of pain on his side pushed him back. He dropped the rifle, while watching another tentacle, from the creature that remained, about to strike. He took two more steps back and felt like falling by the railing of the pit. Quick reflexes were what saved him from going straight to the bottom. He could still hear the angry cries of the other monster and the characteristic sound of that thing spitting more unformed embryos.

Isaac ran to assist his companion, steeling his reflexes and aim much as he could. He wasn´t able to go too far, because the Guardian would lock himself up in its cocoon, and none of their weapons was strong enough to destroy it in that state. He had to hit the rolling tips that the monster had deployed. Obviously that was easier said than done, with these tiny annoyances that his opponent had been charged with spitting, throwing darts and spikes like a living circus target. He could see the hands of Sergei gripping the floor of the walkway, and tried not to divert too much attention to them. T&ook a deep breath and launched a long flare to the small creatures, destroying them almost instantly. It was not his first time facing those things, but he well remembered that each battle with them was an ordeal.

_A blast of fire... a charred limb... O.K. Isaac, keep it up. Two bursts more... another arm... three shots... four... concentrate damn it!... five... another member!... six bursts... another one!... take this, you fucking shit!... seven... the last tentacle is hidden behind the body... you have to get close!... eight shots... point to the body and make it out... nine... die already!... ten bursts... Fuck you!..._

The creature gave its last gasp in the time that Sergei let go of his hands. The fatigue was egregious and he wasn´t sure he could take a lot more. His fingers slipped when the hand of his companion grabbed his arm and pulled him up.

_- Thanks tovaryš -_ said the young man as he rested a few moments. The American also lowered himself and soon they were both sitting next to each other.

_- Now there's nothing other than opening that closet and pulling out the device... How are you feeling? -_

_- I´m fine Odyn, let´s go! -_

On that voice both rose. The Ukrainian recovered his gun and while Isaac forced the lock, he stood on guard. A couple of hits after the closed door opened:

_- So many problems with such a small thing... -_

Both men saw the device. It was bigger than the stasis and tk modules of their costumes, but lighter than either of those two pieces. The American engineer had seen some works done in vacuum with the help of the device, but wondered if it would really help them bring back the relic...

Isaac checked the clock on his suit. Two hours and thirty minutes before passing the orbital point of no return. Now everything depended on Cortéz though. The distant sound of groans did awaken both. The noise seemed to approach and become more consistent. They turned to look to each other for a moment and then readied their weapons.

Their departure wouldn´t be nowhere near as uneventful and simple as their entry...

* * *

_**Captain´s Nest, Bridge, USG Ishimura,**_

_Two hours and thirty minutes before orbital no-return point..._

UMAS woke up Ribbel when the task of patching and re-rendering was ready. The I.A. couldn´t devote more resources to this operation, because the repair of the vital systems of the Ishimura was a very laborious process. The processes of self-repair as well as transport of some materials, were made by a number of versatile robots, which were responsible for maintaining the non-critical services of the ship. UMAS itself functioned as a sort of foreman, engineering tasks and being responsible for maintaining the multiple coordinated operations along the ship. Thanks to its efforts, the tram had been repaired in record time, and made possible all the human incursions that were taking place. But it was a laborious task and its resources were being depleted gradually.

Ribbel had slept without dreaming for about thirty minutes, since the construct set itself to work. Finally the woman opened her eyes, recognizing the place. The drowsiness was quickly replaced by a state of alert that had since become customary. UMAS had blocked the elevator leading to the upper part of the bridge and hadn´t received any unexpected visitors since:

_- Is it ready now UMAS? - _the slender woman sat back in her chair. The little sleep had been good for her and now she was more lucid.

_- As much as possible Miss Connors. Accessing now the reconstituted video - _

In the blue holographic display system, several pictures of the different perspectives of outer corridor they had traveled through, came to life. Several necromorphs passed before the cameras, never suspecting they were being watched. Ribbel asked to advance the recording. In front of her eyes marched several similar images for nearly twenty minutes of footage, where the only thing that showed the progression of time was the apparent movement of stars and a stopwatch indicator. Thus passed the pictures, when a solitary figure appeared. He seemed to walk and make gestures as if he saw something or someone. The hulking brown metal suit of engineering and the laser tool left no room for doubt:

_- UMAS, stop the recording and rewind a few seconds -_

The I.A. proceeded to do what she asked and suddenly Ribbel remembered how Rodrigo got away from her. She was attached to the oxygen uptake, recharging her reserves through the auxiliary tube, when the Mexican asked her not to move, as he wanted to check something. She almost ignored him and continued to concentrate on renewing her air. When she turned to her partner, he was gone.

Now she saw that he had walked up near the hall door. He had been standing in front of the camera, without seeing it directly, apparently arguing heatedly with someone. He jaded and gave signs that his oxygen wasn´t going to last long. He left the door for another secondary intake.

While he was connected refilling his supply, a figure came toward him. The Asian couldn´t restrain a cry of fear when she saw that what was coming to his friend was a necromorph, one of the Slashers, which was moving quietly, with two sharp blades lifted and ready to dig into the back of the young man. Rodrigo became aware of his enemy, perhaps by the faint shadow cast towards his back. It didn´t matter. The monster threw a lash with the right of its sharp protrusions, but the young engineer managed to dodge quickly. The member crashed into the oxygen intake, cutting it and causing a leak. The Latino fell back, but the creature was relentless. It turned towards the man and reached out to grab, pulling towards him to try and bite him savagely. He reacted and brought the contact beam up, blocking the attack and causing it to be damaged. He kicked the monster, knocking it to the ground, and trying to turn on his gun. Without any effect.

Ribbel felt her horror increase when she saw the necromorph stand again. Rodrigo didn´t wait ´til it was fully recovered and used the weapon like a metal mallet to hit his opponent a few times. But the third time, the monster was faster. Gun metal crashed against the metal of the oxygen intake and a spark flew. The only thing needed to cause an explosion. The necromorph flew literally, torn apart, along with Rodrigo, whose armor had saved him by miracle. He didn´t cast himself into orbit cause the magnetic boots were still working, despite the damage to his suit. But his RIG´s vital gauge was as low as possible, a dangerous red.

The Asian didn´t know how, but she noticed her hand covering her mouth and her other hand tightly clutching the chair of command. She thought that after seeing so much death and tragedy, she would be already numb before it. She beheld however, the ordeal of his friend and was filled with anguish. Suddenly she realized how much she cared about that stupid Mexican, that made her laugh at every turn and kept her in a good mood.

The recording didn´t end there however. Despite the explosion had damaged the camera, UMAS used another mechanism´s recording, close to the area of the explosion to continue the narrative. A few minutes later, a mysterious hand entered the frame and turned the camera to leave the scene outside the viewing angle. The hand looked like a suit of advanced engineering, but she was not sure. The record ended there.

_- Someone rescued him. And apparently took him with -_ added UMAS, showing some far shots of the same corridor, where a strong man put his friend´s body up to his shoulder and left.

_- UMAS, I need to know what happened next. Search in other cameras for a match with the figures of the last video. Surely they passed through in front of some other security eye. Hurry! -_ ordered the slender woman, rising from her seat.

The electronic construction obeyed reluctantly and collated the camera images in a matter of minutes, while Ribbel paced back and forth like a caged animal. It soon found two similarities: A corridor in the recycling sewage system, which passed below most of the decks and another in Medical. The one in the recycling corridor was not able to be appreciated properly, because the water level on it covered almost half of the body and the shot was really badly illuminated. But she could swear that Rodrigo was being carried by a short, stocky and very strong man. But the scene from the Medical Deck left no doubt about it. The man who had rescued him had stripped him of his armor and provided care to the young man. At some point he stopped, and faced the creatures that have swarmed the bio-lab where they were working. The man drove a Graviton Accelerator with one hand. She had never seen anyone do that, not even the strongest engineers, being on Mars. Whoever he was, was a tremendous fighter. The creatures couldn´t even scratch him. It was as if he knew their attack patterns and weaknesses. They were unable to surprise him.

UMAS froze the image of the man on a specific pose and made a zoom. The man's face looked battered and his look was that of an old guy who had seen countless things...

_- Miss Connors: You´re not going to like this at all -_

_- What are you talking about UMAS? -_ she asked nearing to the screen that the construct showed.

For an answer came a shot of the Storage Deck. Rodrigo and Lt. Edwards were propelled out toward the walls of the warehouse. Behind them came the same short and robust man who had rescued his friend, in belligerence. The A.I. had stopped the scene, and quickly made a comparison of the two faces, freezing shots and analyzing. A face in the database appeared:

_- Dawid Von Alper, Status: Deceased. Time of death: More than fifteen hours ago... -_

Ribbel felt the shock, followed by terror, pure and simple, climb and install itself in her throat, right there. She wanted to scream, but her mouth played only bitter and bilious sounds. Opened a channel of video to their peers...

_- Isaac!, Sergei!, you have to help him!, you have to help him! -_ panic and hysteria preyed upon her, distorting her voice to unimaginable levels.

_- Connors, what is happening?, For Christs sake!, can´t you wait? -_ said the engineer, with his face sullen. On the background Sergei fired on a group of necromorphs.

_- Can´t wait!, this guy... thing... whatever... is going to kill him!, he has gone mad! -_

_- Sergei, run to the tram!, now! -_ Clarke shouted to his companion, then focused on the transmission _- Connors, pull yourself together!, who is going to kill who? -_ said as he ran.

Ribbel gathered all the strength she could. Swallowed in a deep breath and articled words as if her life was dependent on it. Then she remembered that in a certain way, it was:

_- Rodrigo's friend! ... Von Alper!... He´s not alive!, and he went crazy, damn it! -_- she said swallowing at every word, in a futile attempt to combat the feeling of dryness in her mouth _- The database says he should be dead ... and he´s going to kill them!... he´s dangerous!... very dangerous! -_

_- Where are they? -_ Sergei asked as he hurried, rushing back from various creatures. At his back came a burst of flames and the woman realized the engineer had covered him. They passed through a narrow frame and the sound of a door closing behind them told her they had arrived at the tram.

_- They have just left the Valor, through the bottom level of the S__torage Deck!. Hurry! -_ panic again dominated her.

_- All right, we´re going! -_ Isaac said and the comm went dead.

Ribbel walked away from the chair and reached for her plasma cutter. Check the charges and adjusted the Astro-Suit. UMAS protested:

_- Miss Connors. I can´t let you make what you appear to be doing. It's still dangerous out there! -_

Ribbel didn´t even flinch:

_- Try and stop me, you electronic piece of shit, and I'll melt each and every one of your memory banks myself! -_

The A.I. said nothing. It synchronized the girl´s RIG with the ship and prepared to lead the Asian, through the quickest route to the monorail.

* * *

_**Storage Deck, USG Ishimura.**_

_Two hours and eighteen minutes for orbital no-return point._

Isaac´s tension was increasing dangerously. His footsteps were stronger than usual and he didn´t care at all. They had left the necromorphs, escaping in the tram, but those things were not going to take long to track them. And there was the matter of Cortéz and the others. He was not sure of what Ribbel had seen, but in this damned ship it was clever to double check always. That´s what had kept him alive until then. The transport began braking and Sergei positioned himself in front of the hatch, with the Pulse rifle pointed directly at the entrance. The American stepped in beside him.

The hatch opened, but nothing was amiss. The engineer came forward and reviewed both sides of the entrance. No enemy in sight. But in the distance they could heard the frantic cries of the monsters that hunted them. They wouldn´t take too long to reach them out. He motioned to his companion to go out and both moved toward the storage area. On the way, ransacked a vending machine to replenish their ammo. Damn his luck!.

They reached the lock-tight storage area. While the door performed its opening cycle, Isaac wondered what they would find behind it. His soldier buddy said nothing, but he saw a face of concern in him. The whistle of the mechanism told them the cycle was over, and opened the round lock, turning the gargantuan metal door on its circumference. Both men set off the helmets of their armor and went in in haste, to find a scene of desolation:

Rodrigo was lying on the far side of the room, clutching his neck, struggling to not bleed to death. Thick drops of vital fluid floating in zero gravity environment floated where he was. Next to him was a cylindrical container of at least one ton of capacity, parked nearby. At the other extreme, with the lower gate open to space, a parody of man, squat and swollen by the action of the vacuum that was sucking the air of the place, and bleeding from all of the orifices of his body, held the Lt. Edwards, only to drop her through the gate a second later. When Isaac was able to get out of the stupor, rushed immediately towards him.

The enemy was unaware of his presence or simply ignored him. But when the engineer was about to fire a flare of his makeshift weapon, the man leaned to one side with a speed unheard of for someone of similar mass. The Graviton Accelerator in his hand moved and impacted against Isaac´s helmet with a force felt only in the tentacles of the largest creatures that swarmed the ship, propelling him back violently and causing him to crash against the inside walls.

Sergei, who had rushed to help Rodrigo, administering a high dose of coagulant to the wound, reacted and shot the unknown. Several shots flew true but that didn´t seem to stop the man, who used his gun and fired a gravitational mine, part of the resources of the weapon. It didn´t land very close to the two men, but the blast was enough to push them back, making Sergei lose his balance and pushing both against the wall. The Ukrainian didn´t drop the gun and as soon as the shock passed, shot back, forcing his opponent to cover retreating at a speed that bordered on surreal.

Meanwhile Isaac while came into his senses, in pain. His head was spinning and disoriented. Among the urgent feeling of nausea that invaded him and the perspective of the room, wrong for him, he had lost track of where he was. Looked to his nadir and saw the hostile man hiding behind a battery where materials were stored, the bullets bouncing off the metal boxes with the symbol of the C.E.C. Isaac propelled himself as he could and stuck to the wall, hoping he wouldn´t be hit by any stray bullet. Suddenly remembered the frightened face of the lieutenant and his mind started to work a mile a minute. She was away, flying into oblivion and couldn´t say if she was dead. But that horrible feeling of anguish on her face was something that nobody deserved. A crazy idea crossed his mind and knew what he had to do. Fitted the DELTA module on his back and it started synchronizing itself with the military uniform.

_- Checking functions: Adjusting DELTA circuit for the RIG of... Isaac Clarke, engineer level five. CEC registration 745896 -_ a message appeared in his HUD _- This device requires corrective maintenance to operate at hundred percent of its operational capabilities. Current capacity: Seventy percent -_

_Enough for me!_ thought the engineer when the interface informed the link was successful. On his back, the propellers self-tested and returned to their original position. Turned himself to locate Sergei and saw that he had pulled Rodrigo nearby the exit gate. Activated the audio interface and sent him a message:

_- I'm getting the Lieutenant back!, keep him busy as much as you can! -_

_- Roger tovaryš, good luck! -_

Isaac said no more. He jumped and fell through the gate into the blackness of the void. He soon found himself outside the ship, with the vastness of space opening up to him. The reddish light of Aegis VII bouncing around him. He looked into the turbulent world´s series of flashes, that he was sure were tectonic disturbances. Focused on his goal and programmed the interface to locate the RIG of the military woman. He hoped that the personal reserves of oxygen of her suit would last long enough. He ordered the suit through the neural interface, to accelerate as much as possible and concentrated on the prostrated body of the British.

A minute later he saw her. Her uniform´s mask had reconstituted over her face and she was probably still alive, clawing the few remnants of her remaining air. The UMAS assistant interface that had been stored in his suit was still active and analyzed any remarkable biological patterns, green lines overlapping the image of the viewer. He couldn´t say however if she was just fainted. Accelerated his vector speed, praying to all those deities that Nicole used to worship secretly, that it wasn´t too late.

Sergei had meanwhile managed to hold off the enemy. Using cover fire, aided by the precision software of his suit, had managed to keep the man behind the boxes. But the guy had chosen to project some of those same boxes where he had holed up, using Graviton Accelerator discharges. The result was that the young soldier had to do some acrobatics to avoid objects that traveled towards him, threatening to crush him against the wall, propelled by the weapon of his enemy. He didn´t have to battle with the body of Rodrigo, since he had left him safe, in a niche near the door. Dodged a box which came over, not realizing that the squat man was almost upon him:

_- Fuck...! -_ uttered only to be interrupted by a blow with the Accelerator that cracked the few ribs that he still had intact. The guy didn´t stop there however. Rushing over him, connect a series of knees to his stomach that would have made him throw his inner guts of not for his armor. Sergei stopped a third knee with his leg and propelling himself with the remains of one of the boxes that floated around him, pressed his foe against the wall of the enclosure with his own body, hitting his back squarely and managing to stop his attack. He had lost the Pulse rifle and the Ukrainian tried to grab it again, but his opponent wouldn´t let him, taking his foot and throwing it into the opening where Isaac was out.

_- You don´t understand ... -_ received a voice message _- I can´t let you activate the Marker. No... You shouldn´t! -_

The soldier noticed the tone of madness in the man's voice, while tightly gripping the edge of the gate. He pulled back in, just in time because the other had approached the control panel and ordered the closing of the gate. He did a pirouette, settling for a landing on the roof of the place and look desperately for his rifle. But when he found it and was going to get it, a hand grabbed him firmly. The soldier turned desperate, to find a necromorph Leaper, clinging to his leg, while preparing a blow with its scorpion-like tail, tipped with razor sharp bony protuberance. Sergei jumped again, trying to remember his extensive combat training in zero gravity. The momentum was enough for the creature to let him go, but the monster lunged at him like lightning, with its huge sharp fangs trying to dig into his body.

_- Let go!, chertovsky dermo! -_ launched a profanity as he struggled with the creature, fighting every moment one step closer to death. The creature threw several bites that were dodged as he could, but between that and the sting in its tail, he was going to end up being hurt. Suddenly made a decision. His legs tangled around the tail of the monster, while the world spun around rapidly. And as soon as he could, bent the arms of his enemy in one of those anatomically unnatural angles, as hard as he could. The creature shivered in pain and inflicted a bite on the armor, just above the shoulder, which penetrated the metal plates. The pain only served to spur the Ukrainian, who continued to push each time more and more strongly. At one point both arms gave way and the meat fell off the reanimated rotting body, ending its unlife. Sergei let go of both members and carefully removed the head of his dead opponent, trying not to deepen the wound in his shoulder. The suit was sealed again and a dose of disinfectant and coagulant was applied into the wound.

He landed on the floor of the deck, violently crushing a Lurker that was below him. The fragile creature hit a gasp of pain and died instantly. An audio transmission welcomed him:

_- Sergei!, where is Isaac? - _

_- Ribbel! - _the young blond almost cried over the communicator_ - Tovaryš Isaac went to rescue Lt. Edwards!. He´s out of the ship! -_

_- We can´t stay here!, this place is crawling with them! -_

Just then the young man noticed that his partner had reached the room. Shot over various enemies, with the body of Rodrigo loaded on her back, while going back and forth. Von Alper also fought fiercely and despite having been disarmed and have a ruined body, defended from the creatures very effectively.

A radio message interrupted him:

_- Sergei, what happens?, the door is closed! - _the young man jumped from floor to ceiling of the place dodging the onslaught of a pair of Slashers that rushed over him. Retrieved his weapon and once he had it, opened fire on the monsters chasing Ribbel.

_- Von Alper closed it, and that's not the worst part!. This place is infested with necromorphs!, even if you can get inside, we won´t be able to get the fuel tank with all of this miserables here. Another thing, dyvchina Ribbel is here! - _saw the petite woman get away from the monsters that were already beaten. She couldn´t maneuver as effectively as she wanted, because of the burden she carried.

_- Mr Clarke! - _the woman broke into the transmission.

_- Damn it, Ms. Connors?, what are you doing here? - _while they argued, Sergei fired on other necromorph, approaching the fuel container that they had come for. If they left that behind, nothing of what they had done would mean a thing.

_- No time for that. We got to get out of here! - _The group gathered near the cylinder while still firing.  
_  
- We will!. Hang on the fuel tank and get ready!. UMAS, do you hear me? - _he couldn´t see their faces, but Sergei was able to guess the concern there.

_- Loud and clear Mr. Clarke. And i know what you´re going to ask me with a probability of ninety percent. I'm pumping air into the room and sealing it tightly. In one minute and ten seconds the pressure in the enclosure will be twice as that of the ship -_ heard from the construct as they glanced sideways at Von Alper, who had focused his attention on the many monsters besieging him.

_- Clarke!, what are you going to do? -_ fear in the voice of Ribbel suggested horrible things.

_- You don´t want to know! -_ the words of his partner did not bode well. The burly man rescued the Graviton Accelerator and finished getting rid of the nuisances around him.

_- Thirty seconds... -_ UMAS voice echoed in their helmets.

The Emissary finished his work and turned towards them:

_- If another "Convergence" is unleashed, it´ll be the end of this whole universe. I can´t allow it -_ his voice was calm, but had signs of fear and anger contained therein. A shiver ran through their backs.

_- Wait a minute Von Alper!, what are you talking about? -_ wondered Ribbel stalling him to gain time. The stocky German Jewish inexorably advanced on to them.

_- I am not Von Alper!. Von Alper, Yushchenko or whatever was called the former occupant of this body is gone without remedy!, I am Yazek at Al Imilani!, Sacred Emissary of the Oriontid people that the infernal machine out there destroyed. I will not let it delete this universe, just as the Dean did with mine! -_ Von Alper took another step forward.

_- Ten seconds... -_ announced UMAS.

Sergei looked to Ribbel, not knowing what to say. The man took a step and raised his tremendous weapon ready to end his work. But the announcement of Isaac came first:

_- Hold on tight! -_

An explosion rocked the room and the doors were thrown out. A giant vortex was created by the sudden change of pressure. Several boxes and some necromorphs, that were about to fall over them, went flying, as a result of decompression. Sergei grasped Ribbel with one hand and the cylinder with another and pushed into the vortex rolling pass the Emissary and pulling him along with them. The world became a blur of speed and suddenly the cold metal walls were replaced by stars. The prominent blond felt the pressure of a hand that was not of his companions, clinging to him.

_- You're quite persistent! -_ said turning to the man. He simply couldn´t be alive. But somehow he was, exposed to the vacuum of space. Decided not to find out how or why. Dealt a blow to his face with his legs, pushing it away from them. His answer was a blow to his ribs, that he was sure, had pierced his lungs. His breathing became difficult. Two more hits and he wasn´t able to hold anymore. But neither had counted with Ribbel. She held as best she could and fired on the arm that clung to Sergei. The severed limb floated away, but the other arm of the man rushed toward him, gripping his body. The youth could see the grimace of hate in the face of the girl, as she pressed back the trigger of her gun, separating the other hand. The grin of the man, whose limbs were floating away from them because of their own inertia moment, indicated pain, surprise and anger.

A sudden jerk told him that Isaac was working. He was pulling the tank with the TK module, back to the spacecraft. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness were the gates of a sub-storage room opening to them...


End file.
